He hates other people sleeping in his bed. Especially me. A deluge of visitors to my house left him with little choice. He covered the pillows with towels to protect them from the oil/gel/goop thing that I put on my hair. He covered the foot of the bed with second set of 'dirty' bed sheets so that my "dirty kovil kaal" will not touch his pristine bed sheet. Today morning, the man who celebrates his birthday along with Kalaignar, got up at 6:00 AM and found out that I was still sleeping in his bed. He typically folds-up all the blankets and cleans the bed within 1.2 nano seconds after getting up. Given that - a snoring son who had managed to penetrate the defenses of the towel and a second sheet - wasn't a pleasant sight.
By 7:00 AM, he had folded and cleaned everything in the bed except the area that held me. Eye witness accounts later told me that he kept an eye on me as he brushed his teeth and every time I stirred, he thought that I was about to get up and so he accelerated the speed of brushing. At 7:20, he made his first attempt to fold the bed sheet that I was using to cover myself - with me still in it. I shouted and drove him away. So he stood next to me for close to 30 minutes. This one is hard to believe. He wasn't reading a news paper or drinking coffee. He stood there like a predator waiting for its prey to show up. I finally got up at 8:00 AM (and I have been reminded of this fact 6 times already). There is a morning phenomena that most people should be familiar with. There are those precious few moments in the morning when you are sitting on the edge of the bed, feet hanging down, and your eyes are staring at nothing in particular. This phenomena is the process through which you adjust to the real world around you and summon the will power to get out of bed. Barely a second had passed. He began to mime the act of folding the bed-sheets. In my state all I saw was a man frantically waving his arms at me. This really didn't help the process of adjusting to reality. I began to doubt that I was really awake. According to him - I didn't seem to get the point. Time was running out. He had already heard of whispers in the living room that his much hated Helmet law had been relaxed. If he didn't get to 'The Hindu' newspaper soon, something bad was about to happen. Enough was enough. He man-handled me and yanked away the bed sheet from under me, forcing me to stand up. Using this precious window of opportunity, he quickly started cleaning and dusting the bed, taking care not to give me an opportunity to sit on it again.
Among his other idiosyncrasies, the man can't tolerate people, who take more than 0.7 nano seconds to place an order in a restaurant. To him placing an order in a restaurant is a simple task. Thats because his only order for the past 25-30 years has been - 'one plain dosai'. Patently, a menu card for such a simple order is meaningless. He thinks people visit a restaurant to complete a much-hated arduous task of satisfying their minimal hunger. He has conveniently skipped the era where the concept of 'eating for pleasure' has firmly ensconced itself in the modern world. So everytime we visit a restaurant with a large group of people, he strategically positions himself at the corner of the table. As soon as the waiter arrives, he says "a plain dosai for everybody" and packs off the waiter in the general direction of the 'sarakku master'. People around him usually take a few minutes to come to terms with the fact that the waiter has already taken their order. Their order. That the splendid evening they were looking forward to - all the breads, nans and paneer butter masalas has come to nonce. That they have only one plain dosai to look forward to. One plain dosai. He stares innocently at a blank space in front of him, proud of the 'its-dirty-but-somebodys-gotta-do-it task that he helped accomplish very fast.