1 September 2026
Changing bedsheets is a task I thoroughly enjoy. Not just because putting on fresh new ones is so refreshing to all the senses but because this simple, almost mundane task reminds me of my childhood. It was a weekly tradition between my grandfather and me.
Me – always the helper, eager and observant. Me – the monkey, asked to jump from corner to corner to smooth out the creases. Me – the devil’s advocate, wondering why my grandfather insisted on such perfection when the beds were to be slept in almost an hour later. He never answered but he never defaulted. That household chore became my first ever visual lesson in perfection – doing things properly for their own sake rather than to impress someone.
Two decades later, I am still as particular about making sure the fresh bedsheets have no creases. Today, while I was meticulously doing this task, my mind was reviewing some HR questions. I have to screen some fresh graduates based on the seasoned expectations the company representatives have sent across.
I have a list of skills – but I lack the right evaluation questionnaire. How do I determine whether a candidate is an ideal fit in just over 10 minutes? But as I went about smoothing the creases of the bedsheet, I realised that everyday chores often make us go through these exact skills.
Open the door to the Indian refrigerator and there you have it – an ice-cold lesson in space management and strategic placement. Could any professional course teach it better? We shift and we fit three leftovers, a few masala packets, vegetables and fruits, dairy products, into a space that is probably meant to house only 1 of each of these categories! But we manage. And successfully!
While my mind was racing through these examples, my hands were absentmindedly wiping off the day’s dust from the furniture. That soft, worn rag forced me to look down. It was once my favourite T-shirt. All around me, these beloved pieces of clothing from the yesteryears now double up to serve a different purpose – cushion covers, curtains (for the elite) and rags and door mats (for the ordinary)! Another quiet lesson in resource management – extracting maximum value from what we already own.
I found myself pondering over how much effort we put into creating the perfect CV, translating basic common sense into corporate language. Yet we began training for the job years before an interview ever came our way. The adaptability, the perceptiveness, the instinct to stretch resources – all quietly learned in the kitchen, bedroom or while lounging on the sofa.
Tomorrow’s interview questions remain pending on my desk…and I am half tempted to set aside the corporate speak entirely. Forget asking where they see themselves in five years – I might learn more about each candidate just by asking how they fit three containers in an already packed fridge on a Sunday evening!