Thoughts on house hunting

House hunting in SG has been a pain but a pleasure for the vouyerismist (of course the type that loves to see how people have done up their houses) in me. With the idea of living in a perfectly square and big house stuck in our minds, P and I have been unimpressed by well-done interiors, new and therefore spic buildings with jazzy facilities and even by sea views.

All this time, I have been looking for a house with character but alas, the search seems to be in vain. Condos are unfortunately not the places to go to if it is a piece of personality and character you are after. We did come close to our vision in the shape of a standalone house with two floors, a backyard, lots of sun, a hint of colonial influence in its kitchen and a bit of a green patch. It was perfect except it was more than we needed and the climbing would drive away our parents. And so the hunt continues.

The fruitless search, however, has had its benefits. In SG once a tenant serves a notice to the landlord, the latter has the right to get in prospective tenants to view the apartment, even though the previous tenant is still there. As a result, we have visited still occupied condos and embarrassedly stepped into bedrooms, opened wardrobes and kitchen cabinets and peeped in every corner in the presence or absence of the occupants.

While few have been a revelation into how dirty people could be, some have been a visual feast. And few of these happened to belong to Indian families. With space, the imagination gets a chance to run loose. And what a run it could be. Every space has been a window into how diverse and unique the imagination of two people could be but still have the undercurrent of shared cultures and backgrounds.

While earthy shades, dark-stained Indonesian teak furniture, mirrors, Fab India furnishings, bells, Ganeshas and urulis were ubiquitous, there were a few delightful aberrations. An Indian bachelor’s apartment we saw was largely done up in black and white modern furniture with clean lines and a masculine feel. The theme and feel extended to the eclectic set of paintings dotting the apartment without cluttering it and broken once in a while with a splash of colour. One would never have been able to gauge the occupant’s style looking at the main door painted a bright yellow on the outside like the rest of the apartment doors, which gave a sunny, Mediterranean touch to the pristine white walls of the building.

While painful with my swollen feet and protruding belly, the apartment hunt has given me a chance to think more seriously about my own likings and design sensibilities and sometimes pause and think about what would I do with a certain space. While the tight space supply and the matchbox layout of my Hong Kong apartment forced me to be frugal and hold the reins of my imagination tight, the promise of more space in SG has made me think and daydream more. In the future my hands and days would be full with the baby, but I am looking forward to casting my magic (I am that confident) over the place we will call home.

Mug woes

I love collecting mugs. My helper on the other hand loves breaking them. Perhaps her clumsiness is nature’s way of ensuring that my kabootarkhaana of a kitchen is never overrun by mugs. I tried saving my beauties by starting to wash them myself. But whenever I err, my helper delivers the fatal blow. Since the time I used quickfix to glue together a mug I have had since college, she makes it a point to collect all broken pieces of the mugs she breaks, so I can glue them later. I am now the proud owner of mugs that are chipped or have some part missing. I am so scarred by the experience that I haven’t bought anything in the past few months. Every time I look for a ‘mug of the day’ for my weekend chai, my no-so-perfect mugs make me sigh. But the hoarder in me refuses to part with them. I am saving them to use as planters some day.

Panting over paintings

I am in seventh heaven! Two paintings up! After listening to P’s grumbling for months over neglecting the painting he gifted me and feeling devastated over my own pick looking drab in frame, the Eureka idea hit me like lightning. P was immediately put to work and the genius he is, my masterpieces were up and hanging in minutes. Needless to say, they look fabulous together!

And every time I have one more frame up, I am reminded of the 14-year-old who left no corner of her room bare. There were drawings all over. A huge hand-made poster of Daisy Duck adorned the door that opened into the living room. My dad did a double-take every time he entered my room and I had to grudgingly take off a few of my lovelies.

Some day when I have a daughter, I want her to pick a pen and scribble like there is no tomorrow (a son will be no less welcome to do the honours). I know I will regret that! But I want her to get over her inhibitions and know that every discovery begins with few failures. Decorating one’s home comes naturally to some people but for most it is a tedious and scary process. I belong in the latter category.

I am taking baby steps towards putting together a home that has a soul and a look. Material goals are often more elusive than the spiritual ones. But I will be there someday. Till then back to drooling over my new loves.