When you talk about houses, how can interior decoration be ignored? Call it decor, ambience, or energy flow—whatever name suits. But at its core, houses are meant to be lived in, comfortably. Keep things clean, have fresh air and sunlight streaming in—what more do you need?

I’m not quite sure when this "interior decoration" trend began. All I remember were walls, windows, and doors. Mats to sleep on. The wonderful cement floors, or if lucky, red oxide floors to sit on. Maybe a calendar to note milk purchases. An occasional photograph with everyone smiling, even if internal turmoil's brewed beneath the surface. And that was that.

Perhaps wealthier families had a showcase. A few artifacts or unique showpieces—at least that’s what the owners thought. But why display them for others? Weren’t houses meant for living, for inviting guests over for lunch or dinner?

The first "showcase" in my house, if you could even call it that, was in the first house I built. It was just an open cement and brick shelf with umpteen partitions holding a radio, books, and a few display items. Everyone in the family kept something there, thinking it would make for a good showpiece.

But no more of those showcases now. People have graduated—or should I say, over-graduated. Now we need wall hangings, original paintings (or at least convincing fakes), and color combinations that make rooms look bigger. If you want bigger rooms, why not just build them bigger? Then there are colors for energy, peace, and coolness. You need stylish yet uncomfortable furniture, artifacts in recessed walls, perfectly matching furniture, and a 12-seater dining table where nobody actually dines. Even the bed sheets, bed covers, and comforters must be carefully selected. How all these things contribute to our happiness, I do not know.

But the best form of "interior decoration" I appreciate is this: on a regular day—or even on an irregular day—things are scattered across the house. Dirty laundry overflowing from the basket, some clothes on the floor. Unwashed plates, casually folded bed sheets, beds unmade. A teacup here, a device there, a backpack draped over a chair, a towel hanging on the back of another chair. Random fruits strewn across the kitchen counter, and rugs crumpled or at odd angles. You name it, it’s there.

Then, the moment you hear a guest is about to arrive, a flurry of activity ensues. In mere seconds, all these items, once casually thrown about, disappear into any available cupboard. Rugs magically straighten out. Furniture is perfectly aligned. Fruit bowls appear from nowhere. Unwashed plates hide in the dishwasher. A half-hearted, but thorough-looking dusting is done. Suddenly, the house looks spotless. And the guest, as expected, asks the same question they ask in every house they visit: "How do you keep your home so clean? It’s full of energy. Lovely."

After the guests leave, the entire family becomes a search party, hunting for their misplaced belongings, which have all miraculously found refuge in some obscure corner. No one remembers exactly where, so time is well spent in frustration and mild chaos.

Interior decoration? It’s about cramming everything lying around into whatever hidden space you can find, all to create the illusion of a neat and clean home.

Are we living for ourselves, or for the praise of others?

Continued in 181. Pressed and Oppressed - Part 1