In our home, guests are treated like gods. But the year Mr. Mishra came to stay, we placed him on a pedestal even higher than that. He was a distant relative who had said he would stay “just for two days.” Mom prepared enthusiastically, Dad took leave from work, and we children were firmly instructed: “No mischief in front of the guest.”
The first day went smoothly. On arrival, Mr. Mishra modestly said, “Oh, you shouldn’t have taken so much trouble,” and then helped himself to eight fritters. That night, he mentioned he preferred simple food, so from the next day onward, Mom began cooking a separate dish just for him.
On the second day, he suggested the TV volume be lowered because he wanted to listen to the news carefully. On the third day, he remarked that the mattress was a bit too soft. On the fourth day, he advised that his tea should have half a spoon less sugar. Gradually, the remote control, the kitchen, and even the sofa seemed to fall under his command.
We children soon realized that our bedroom had quietly turned into his personal resting suite. Our study sessions shifted to the dining table. Dad would whisper to Mom, “When exactly will the two days be over?” Mom would smile and say, “We’ll ask him tomorrow.”
A week passed. Quite comfortably, Mr. Mishra announced, “It feels just like my own home here.” Dad’s expression at that moment resembled someone staring at an unexpectedly high electricity bill.
Finally, Dad gathered the courage and politely asked, “When is your return ticket?” Mr. Mishra looked surprised. “Oh! I thought you would insist I stay longer.”
The very next day, his ticket was booked. At departure, he said warmly, “You’ve taken such wonderful care of me.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, a collective sigh of relief echoed through the house.
Mom laughed and said, “Guests may be like gods, but even gods shouldn’t be carried on our heads.”
That day, we learned an important lesson: hospitality is a virtue—but only when it comes with healthy boundaries. Otherwise, give someone an inch, and they’ll take a mile.
RAJEEV VERMA 