Have you seen that woman? The one with shiny white teeth, the perfect husband, the perfect kids, the perfect house and the perfect life? A shiny facetious smile pasted onto her perfect face. I hate that woman. I want to knock off her perfect teeth. She makes me feel so inadequate. I am a blunder-bus. I blunder through everything in life. I'm blundering through motherhood for instance.

I've never read a child-psychology book. I let my daughter watch telly, go to bed without brushing her teeth and lately I've taken to telling her rather loudly, in supermarkets, much to the chagrin of my husband and other shoppers, that we don't have money for all the endless things she wants. What's wrong with telling your child that you don't have money?

My mother never shied away from telling me that we didn't have money. We learnt that lesson very early in life. That there wasn't an endless hoard of money stashed away in the back room to fund every doll or dress I wanted. I learnt that my parents worked extremely hard for their money and that it was sparse. And even though it was sparse, some of it had to be given away as charity to others who had less than us. Why are we so ashamed to teach our children this fundamental lesson in life? We are so stressed trying to fill their bottomless pit of need.

Coming to London from America has taught me that a small life is actually very good for you. In America, I lived in a building complex with two swimming pools, four tennis courts and a fully equipped gym. I had my own car and everything cost half of what it costs in London. The truth is I never went swimming, I don't know how to play tennis and I'm too lazy to go to the gym. In London, I don't have a car of my own but I enjoy taking the bus; it means I exercise my legs and protect the ozone layer. Our apartment is smaller than it was in America but it's taught me I don't need half the things I had. They were useless, mindless things I bought to fill the cupboards I had. I've learnt other virtues in the UK. That it's okay to wait in an over-crowded NHS reception room to be seen by a doctor if it means everyone else has access to public health care. It's good to recycle, worry about your carbon foot-print, protect the environment and, preserve the dignity of small towns and villages. Small is good. Big is vulgar.

Best of all I've learnt to be courageous enough to tell my child we can't afford things. It's a lie of course. But the last thing I want is for her to grow up to be that perfect woman with that perfect husband, kids and house. The facile, vacuous, monstrous lie of perfection we, middle-class Goans hide behind. Alright, I don't quite want her to be the blunder-bus that I am either but that's another column altogether.

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