About 30 years ago, while travelling on a train from Delhi to Chennai I was able to observe a very Indian phenomenon: all the six people sitting around me knew everything about everything. The total journey time was 36 hours of which 18 were spent sleeping. But the remaining 18 hours were available for incessant discussion on all subjects under the sun.

It’s often said there is an underlying unity in India’s huge diversity. We don’t agree on many things. But one of the few things that we do agree upon wholeheartedly is a strong preference for noise, the louder the better. Our diversity converges around extreme loudness. A few weekends ago this was brought home to me once again. Suddenly, quite out of the blue, a massive thumping of electronic music started up from behind our house. It’s a massive parking lot owned by a massive builder. It’s always full but not on weekends. So the builder has been renting it out to ‘events’ companies.

Over the last 25 years our family has shrunk. But for some reason that I can’t explain, our house has grown from a two-bedroom thing with a large terrace to a five-bedroom thing with virtually no terrace. We only use one bedroom, however. The remaining four rooms are used as storerooms, because, well, they are there. But every now and then, the urge to clean up, especially when the weather is benign, comes upon us and we start looking for things we can discard or, because hope springs eternal, sell. But eventually all the effort results in nothing more than rearranging a lot of junk. It also involves severe emotional obstinacy on everyone’s part. Fights ensue. Sulks rule the day. In the end it’s the whiskey that provides much needed balm.