Mr Thakur was in a dilemma. He was admiring the beautiful flowers in his small garden when his brows creased into a frown. There were bits and pieces of egg shells sticking to the petals of the flowers; there were skins of potatoes, tiny slices of tomatoes, scraps of all kinds of vegetables, and tea leaves marring the beauty of his cherished flowers!
This was nothing new; Mr Thakur had been witnessing the defilement of his flowers for quite some time now. He looked up at the balcony of the flat above and clenched his teeth. The maid who worked in the flat above had emptied their kitchen trash into his garden once again!
Mr Thakur was a gentleman who did not like to exchange angry words; he wanted to sort out the problem in some non-violent way. Something had to be done fast, else his garden would soon end up resembling a garbage dump.
Over the next few days, Mr Thakur struck up cordial relationships with the owner of the flat above, and made sure he wished the man "good morning" and "good evening" everyday without fail. When the friendship had reached a back-slapping level, Mr Thakur unleashed his arsenal. "You seem to have had omelette for breakfast," he told the man one day. The neighbour was surprised, "How could you tell? Is something sticking to my shirt?"
"Oh no! Your shirt is clean. I found bits of broken egg shells in my garden," Mr Thakur told him.
Mr Thakur patiently followed this strategy over the next few days, and like a magician drawing a rabbit out of a hat continued telling the neighbour what he had had for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
The strategy worked! No one likes the privacy of his kitchen to be invaded. After a few days, Mr Thakur found that the shower of kitchen waste from above into his garden had stopped!