I continue my trilogy on the unexpected challenges of adjustments in the early phase of my retirement.

The dust had settled on the most important person in my life — my husband — so next, I turned my attention to our live-in help and cook, Rani. She’s been with us for over two decades and is truly part of the family.

She’s not a trained cook, but one who has mastered her craft through experience. I decided it was time to help her raise the culinary bar. To my surprise (and mild dismay), it felt like hitting a wall. She would sulk, sometimes ignore my cues, or follow them halfway. When I suggested reorganising kitchen storage to improve efficiency, she simply refused to listen.

At the time, Cheekoo was in the U.S., and to my astonishment, she called one day to mediate between Rani and me. Rani had reached out to her directly instead of Ravi. When Cheekoo asked why, Rani explained that he was in my team and therefore unlikely to resolve the matter in her favour.

I took Cheekoo’s advice and sat down with Rani for a heart-to-heart. We agreed that I would find new recipe videos and she would try one new dish a day. Beyond that, her kitchen remained her kingdom and she wanted no interference there. It worked beautifully — Rani’s dishes are now the talk of the town.

Feeling emboldened by my success with Rani, I turned my focus to Manjunath, our gardener of ten years. He soon discovered that I was now conducting “performance reviews” thrice a week. His defence strategy was ingenious — the language barrier. He spoke only Kannada; I, regrettably, didn’t.

But persistence won the day. Once Manjunath saw the improvements, he became fully invested, raising his own standards with pride. In no time, our balconies began to flourish like never before.