Living in Suburbia

There's some odd little things we noticed while living in the enclave in Dehradun.

It's surprising how many people come and go to your house - the gardeners, cleaners, laundry wallah and others. There's an awful amount of to-ing and fro-ing - the trust and lawfulness is quite surprising, given the huge difference in wealth between the householders and the staff.

You also get all the regular door-to-door salesmen - vegetables (on a hand-cart), milk (motorcycle with 4 milkchurns strapped to it), and encyclopedia.

The enclave has a night-watchman. The poor guy has to walk his beat all night, continuously blowing a whistle and banging a stick on gates. It's a melancholy sound, but I suppose it's good to let burglars know that he's on the way. Wouldn't want to surprise anyone, after all.

Residents like to have vainglorious name-plaques in front of their house, announcing their name, rank, qualifications and achievements: