How well do you know your neighbours?
Some people refuse contact with neighbours even when they live in adjacent houses / apartments.
Do you know your neighbours? I don’t. I have been living in the same apartment for three years, but haven’t exchanged a word with my neighbours. Wonder why?
Let me explain. I’m kind of an antisocial. Don’t make friends easily, and don’t talk to strangers. An antiseptic smile is the best I can manage. Prefers to keep to myself and stick to the same circle of friends and relatives. Well, you can call me an introvert. That would explain my lack of interaction with neighbours.
My wife’s exactly the opposite. Yet, she has failed to strike up a conversation with the occupants of the flat across the corridor. The doors face each other. At times, we open the doors simultaneously, and the elderly lady behaves as if we don’t exist. So do the two young adults. We hardly get to see the other neighbours.
How young children make a difference
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Maybe they want to be left alone. I understand that. Yet, it feels strange. Weird, actually!
Humans, they say, are social animals. Our lives are interlinked and interdependent in some way, especially when we share a building. The blank stares and the radio silence in the elevators baffle me. Isn’t this a community? I ask myself.
I lived in another apartment for 20 years, and the experience was totally different. We had plenty of friends in the building and the neighbouring blocks. Some of those friendships exist even today, even after they have moved to other countries.
Much of the indifference may be due to big-city syndrome. People are so busy with their lives that they don’t have time for socialising.-
What’s the difference? One reason was our children. They were young and had plenty of friends. I remember a time when the doors of three neighbouring flats, including ours, were never locked as children kept moving from one house to another to continue their games. That was when my daughter was a toddler. At least 25 children in the neighbourhood would attend my son’s birthdays.
The children’s parents became our friends, and we called on each other for festive occasions and pujas. Sweets used to be sent and received during Diwali. Help used to be sought and given. Seems like another era.
Even after we moved, my wife maintained friendships in our old neighbourhood. She frequently travels there to attend birthdays, pujas, picnics, and other community activities. I often tease her, saying that her social skills haven’t worked in the new neighbourhood. She shrugs it off, saying it takes two people to strike a friendship.
Much of the indifference may be due to big-city syndrome. People are so busy with their lives that they don’t have time for socialising. When you get home from work late, visiting the neighbours is the last thing on tired minds.
What about weekends and holidays? Plans would have been made weeks ahead, and grocery shopping and prayers at a temple or a church are a weekend phenomenon. In homes where husbands and wives work, Saturdays and Sundays can turn into marathon cooking sessions to cover the week. All that doesn’t leave much time for neighbours and friends.
In many cases, it’s down to privacy. People value their privacy, which is why they keep to themselves. Imagine if your neighbours are nosy parkers. They could make lives miserable with incessant questions and the insatiable curiosity to know everything that happens in the neighbourhood.
None of us would want that. Right? Then why am I complaining?
You don’t have to take the biblical phrase “Love Thy Neighbour” literally. A little bit of social contact between neighbours wouldn’t hurt. And you don’t have to be friends with all the neighbours. A hello, a good morning, a smile, or a nod would suffice.
Do I do that? Yes, I do. Especially when I’m riding the elevator. It feels good when others return the gesture. A smile is the best. So keep smiling.
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The Influence of the Whānau - Day 9
In a small Māori pā (village) nestled beside a flowing river, a young boy named Rangi lived with his whānau. Rangi was curious and adventurous, always exploring the ngahere (forest) and listening to the stories of his kaumātua (elders). The kaumātua would often remind him, “He waka eke noa”—we are all in this together, and our actions affect the collective.
Rangi's best friend, Manu, was a clever boy but sometimes made poor choices. Manu had recently begun spending time with a group of older boys from another pā who were known for their reckless behavior. They would waste kai (food), leave rubbish in the ngahere, and even disturb the sacred awa (river) by throwing stones at eels.
One day, Manu invited Rangi to join the group, saying, “Come on, Rangi! They’re fun, and they won’t hurt anyone. We’re just having a good time!” Unsure, Rangi agreed, feeling pressure to fit in.
The group’s leader, Matiu, proposed a game: they would sneak into the kaumātua's kumara patch at night and take some for a "feast." Rangi hesitated. He remembered the kaumātua saying how much work went into growing the kumara, with karakia (prayers) and care for the soil. But he stayed silent, feeling outnumbered.
That night, the group raided the garden. As they laughed and ate the stolen kumara by the fire, Rangi felt uneasy. He realized that this was not who he wanted to be. When he saw Manu’s joy in impressing Matiu, Rangi felt torn but remained quiet.
The next morning, the kaumātua discovered the missing kumara and the trampled garden. They called the entire pā together, expressing sadness, not anger. “Our ancestors teach us that the whenua (land) provides for all of us, but only if we treat it with respect,” said one elder. “When we harm the whenua, we harm ourselves.”
Rangi’s heart sank. That evening, he confessed to the kaumātua and his whānau, explaining everything. To his surprise, they did not scold him harshly. Instead, they said, “He tangata tītoki, he tangata rākau—a person is like a tree; they grow straight when supported by others. You must choose companions who uphold the values of your whānau and whenua.”
Rangi decided to distance himself from Manu’s new group and instead spent time with those who respected the land and upheld the teachings of their ancestors. Over time, he encouraged Manu to rejoin him, and together they worked to rebuild the kumara patch, learning from the kaumātua.
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Moral
This story highlights the importance of right company and like-mindedness. It shows that no one is inherently bad, but the influence of others and the situations we choose can lead us astray. Surrounding ourselves with those who uphold values like respect, care, and collective well-being ensures a life of balance and harmony.
Ka mua, ka muri — by learning from the past, we can walk into the future.
Poll: When should the tree go up? 🎄
From what we've heard, some Christmas trees are already being assembled and decorated.
What are your thoughts on the best time to get your Christmas tree up?
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4.7% Second half of November
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43.6% 1st December
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17.6% A week before Christmas
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33% Whenever you wish
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1.1% Other - I'll share below
Today’s Riddle – Can You Outsmart Your Neighbours?
First you eat me, then you get eaten. What am I?
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