My mother believes that we are way ahead on the minimalism curve because unlike her friends she does not preserve restaurant bills from two years ago. But when I ask her to throw away the torn T-shirts and Absolut Vodka bottles, she insists that they deserve a second life as dusters and money plant holders.

Two years ago, my parents returned from their longish stint in the Middle East to move back in with me. Ring out the eggs and maggi, ring in the idlis and paranthas. How would it feel to live with my parents after eight years of living alone?