It was around twelve forty on a Sunday afternoon when the dispute acquired the peculiar density of all apartment controversies, having swollen far beyond its obscure beginnings into something at once intimate and abstract. It was no longer a matter of mere lunch. It was no longer of mere smells but of religion, caste and civilisations itself, and so when the green WhatsApp notification bubbles accumulated with urgency in the Residents’ Association Group, it carried with itself prophetic revelations, accusations, clarifications, corrections, screenshots, invocations of tradition, appeals to tolerance, references to bylaws nobody remembered drafting and precedents nobody could locate.
Continue reading “Sunday Lunch by Samyuktha Kannan”
