Kishore Singh: The family's doing well, thanks

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Long years ago I remember reading about families that sent updated pictures of the clan as New Year's cards. But, of course, by the time my own little brood came about, my hairline had started receding and the thought of sending updated versions of the male baldness syndrome to friends was too horrifying to contemplate.

A few years ago, a senior acquaintance decided that we might want to know about the annual turns and tribulations in his life, and so wrote out a somewhat long and painful biography that listed his wife's asthma, his angina and sundry other ailments in such exhaustive detail, I decided against ever sharing my own memoirs with the public at large.

More recently, a friend and fellow-columnist in this newspaper opted for a succinct email rounding off the year's achievements, and such was the brevity that I couldn't but help admire the roundup of his clan circulated over cyberspace amidst friends. That egged me on to attempt to go over the main landmarks of the year for the Singh household.

My son, I am glad to report, is showing signs of political maturity. Before he left to join college in Pune, I am unsure he knew the names of the parties in Parliament, but of late he has begun to show signs of nodding acquaintance with at least the Shiv Sena. "They're such goons," he last reported, "they like to stop students from partying after midnight."

As bonus he has realised the value of hard work: "Please organise my internship with somebody you know for my next break," he said, warming my heart. "So you can put your time to good use?" I asked him. "So I can earn some money because you're such a skinflint with pocket money," he pointed out.

Finally, he learnt that people management is a difficult art when his sister asked his significant friend of another gender (who is in Delhi) whether she knew her brother was dating her best friend in Pune. My son and daughter have not spoken to each other for 39 days now.

My wife has also spent the better part of the year learning the virtues of silence, or at least of speaking little. In this she has been helped by her friends to a large extent, led by her best friend Sarla who no longer speaks with her. But neither do Padma or Savitri, and last heard, Manju and Tina had decided not to engage in conversation with her either. Unfortunately, she is still on speaking terms with me.

My daughter has had a difficult year in which she found little to her liking. In 2006, she decided she did not like her school (because of its dull uniform), her hair (because it wasn't shaped stylishly enough), her friends (because they are such nerds), her books (they're too "wordy"), her food (it's fattening), clothes ("they're like everyone else's!") or family (but we'll let that pass). She has a strong opinion about things and absolutely no hesitation in voicing it. That's why we keep her locked away whenever we entertain visitors at home.

The dog has had as normal a year as can be expected, and the cook will soon take off for three months because her son is getting married, so in 2007, we've decided that as a family we will fulfill our collective goal of losing weight. My wife presumably will lose less than the rest of us because she is quite happy to accept invitations to dinner at Sarla's and Padma's even though they don't speak to each other.

As for me, I lost a little more hair this year, gained a little more weight, and yes, I really do look like the bloke whose picture appears at the beginning of this column.