Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The note on the car

This is what the neighbors had left on our car this morning. 

Living in India teaches you to be watchful, wary, skeptical and hyper-alert. Since moving to the U.S, I've slowly become the opposite. Life in a condominium in a decent neighborhood is usually safe. 

Sure, there is no gate. We don't have a picturesque garden or a mango tree bursting with juicy, ripe mangoes, waiting to be stolen by street urchins (or by the neighbor who blames it all on street urchins). There is no security guard or night watchman with a big stick who wakes you up with his constant clanging at the gate. 

But there is no vendor, milkman, mailman, cleaning lady or guest who will suddenly knock on your door or walk in to your home, either. Every visit is planned for and anticipated. Everyone needs to be let into the building. They call from the lobby phone and the resident decides whether to buzz the person into the building or not.  It's almost the norm to forget to lock the condo/ apartment front door or balcony door because there is a certain amount of safety and security taken for granted. 

I've always taken care to lock all doors before going to bed but really done nothing more than that to 'stay safe'. I've been slacking off a lot on the home alarm system, hardly turn it on these days. 

After this note, and a follow-up email from our building management folks, A and I resolved to turn on the home security system everyday and night. 

Because it's just plain old-fashioned common sense. 
You never know what's out there. 
Or who. 
The world is full of crazy folks, you know.
Stay safe, people. Check under the bed and behind the curtains.
#paranoidmom

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