Stop clapping imperiously n shouting “koi hai” the moment you are out of slumber n sleeping bag. ‘Raj’ and “Raj-Idiosyncrasies’ no longer exist, not even in Rajasthan. With the helping hands becoming aspirational (rightly so) and maddeningly moody , it wouldn’t hurt to pick up your empty plate n wash it. Shun dependence even on the cuddling n befuddling family members. Apart from powdering your nose or splashing after-shave as the sole arm-lifting exercise, begin brewing your tasteless tea, burning your toast and holes in your shirt/skirt by ironing out wrinkles of your expectations, for family members have their own 1,2,3…lists (nothing wrong with that). Mastering the art of measuring sugar miserly will come in handy when you are salt n pepper and children take wings with their own families due to compulsions of work/kids/creating their own space (absolutely understandable). And in the foggy age when you pretend to come to senses n see life squarely in the eye, your wife may not see eye to eye, turn religiously religious, desert you in favour of God, n delicately but devilishly decline to pour wine in your goblet leaving you low in spirit n dry as desert. And if you happen to be a woman, you run the ultimate risk of being saddled with a spent sentinel sans senses slowly but surely sliding into senility. Dependence, like proximity, breeds contempt. So, ladies n gentlemen, tighten your belts, loose motions n emotions and wield a broom with gusto and a wild Woosterly “WHAT HO”! Waiting in the wings, Jeeves will approve!