In the days that followed, truths were revealed, rumors were started, gossip flowed and general all-round fun was had by all. The first few days were unusually peaceful, but looking back I guess it was the calm before a storm. And what a storm it was...Don't get me wrong, I was partly responsible for starting it and we all enjoyed the ample gossip it furnished. But we are getting ahead of ourselves...
The first thing Z. and D. (Note her character carefully as D. would later be one of the main reactants of the chain reaction that stunned us all) did upon arrival was to hang a bed-sheet that had at one time been white but had clearly endured the rigors of harsh detergents and generations of greasy heads on the archway that separated the courtyard and the girls' rooms from those of the boys. This clearly was a vexation for the poor boys and our poor, sweet, uncomplaining supervisor because while the girls' side has something resembling a chamber pot and a bathroom (albeit with creepy, crawling red worms of some kind) with a nice big courtyard for causes of communal cleanliness, the boys had a tiny sliver behind a broom cupboard with red walls, a door that wouldn't close, a chamber pot from the good old days of yore and was evidently a happy home to a family of rodents.
K. and I insisted that the boys be allowed at least visitation rights to the bathroom; it seemed downright cruel to tell someone to go do their business in a dark room, on a pot that is ready to crumble as the rodents thoughtfully serenade them in the background. Z., D. and T. were very reluctant to begin with, apparently such a plan would hinder their pleasant plans of washing their dirty laundry very publicly. A struggle of wills ensued, but as you might have guessed, K. and I are willful women...A compromise was reached wherein the boys were allowed a couple of hours of privacy every morning for a communal bath in the courtyard and they could visit the pot as often as they wished to (actually nobody really wished to use that pot, lets say as often as they needed to).
S. of course enjoyed extended visitation rights, because, you guessed it again...I am a willful woman. He also got to bathe in the privacy of a bathroom every evening.
Every morning before the boys' hours, Z., D. and T. would collect their...er...sensitive and rather too sensible laundry and hurry into their rooms looking like frightened gazelles. Ah, but when gazelles turn into vixens...but again, we get ahead of ourselves...
They were happy days. Every morning D. and P. (P. was a rather sweet and innocent, at least at this point we thought she was innocent, girl) would climb up the stairs, brave the depraved woman and degenerate dog and turn on the water pipes. One morning, P. reached the top of the stairs first only to find herself staring at the dog with the fiendish eyes. He barked, she yelped and ran down the stairs upsetting D. in the process. D. twisted her ankle with the result that from that day on, S., K., R. or yours truly had to go up and turn on the water because only we love dogs so much that even that brute did not scare us. To be honest, I think we were more scared of meeting the hag from Eerie-land than the dog which seemed more like a victim than a perpetrator. Sure, he was a mean looking thing, but then again we hadn't tried looking at the Gorgon day-in and day-out for 6 or 7 dog years (that's close to 50 human years!).
The meals were another story...On day one, a little dhaba was found that agreed to feed 30 very hungry people twice a day for the very reasonable price of Rs. 40 per person per meal. This reasonable price, however, came with its own price...While the proprietor was very sweet and always ready with a smile, the dal, aloo bharta and roti got real old real soon. 5 days in, the four of us started going out for every meal; even if it meant having samosas dripping with oil and jalebis dripping with syrup at 8.00 in the morning. Truth be told, it was a good break from our typical breakfast of nothing or at most a slice of toast.
Our culinary adventures should also get honorable mention, and they would...soon...
Life fell into a nice routine. Get up, get ready, consume the calories, do some work, eat some more, bathe, eat some more, gossip till 3.00 AM while eating some more and giving the mosquitos something to feed on as well and then blissful sleep.
The sleeping also deserves honorable mention, and so it shall...
So many honorable and some not-so-honorable things to mention... Ah, patience...it will happen yet :)
The first thing Z. and D. (Note her character carefully as D. would later be one of the main reactants of the chain reaction that stunned us all) did upon arrival was to hang a bed-sheet that had at one time been white but had clearly endured the rigors of harsh detergents and generations of greasy heads on the archway that separated the courtyard and the girls' rooms from those of the boys. This clearly was a vexation for the poor boys and our poor, sweet, uncomplaining supervisor because while the girls' side has something resembling a chamber pot and a bathroom (albeit with creepy, crawling red worms of some kind) with a nice big courtyard for causes of communal cleanliness, the boys had a tiny sliver behind a broom cupboard with red walls, a door that wouldn't close, a chamber pot from the good old days of yore and was evidently a happy home to a family of rodents.
K. and I insisted that the boys be allowed at least visitation rights to the bathroom; it seemed downright cruel to tell someone to go do their business in a dark room, on a pot that is ready to crumble as the rodents thoughtfully serenade them in the background. Z., D. and T. were very reluctant to begin with, apparently such a plan would hinder their pleasant plans of washing their dirty laundry very publicly. A struggle of wills ensued, but as you might have guessed, K. and I are willful women...A compromise was reached wherein the boys were allowed a couple of hours of privacy every morning for a communal bath in the courtyard and they could visit the pot as often as they wished to (actually nobody really wished to use that pot, lets say as often as they needed to).
S. of course enjoyed extended visitation rights, because, you guessed it again...I am a willful woman. He also got to bathe in the privacy of a bathroom every evening.
Every morning before the boys' hours, Z., D. and T. would collect their...er...sensitive and rather too sensible laundry and hurry into their rooms looking like frightened gazelles. Ah, but when gazelles turn into vixens...but again, we get ahead of ourselves...
They were happy days. Every morning D. and P. (P. was a rather sweet and innocent, at least at this point we thought she was innocent, girl) would climb up the stairs, brave the depraved woman and degenerate dog and turn on the water pipes. One morning, P. reached the top of the stairs first only to find herself staring at the dog with the fiendish eyes. He barked, she yelped and ran down the stairs upsetting D. in the process. D. twisted her ankle with the result that from that day on, S., K., R. or yours truly had to go up and turn on the water because only we love dogs so much that even that brute did not scare us. To be honest, I think we were more scared of meeting the hag from Eerie-land than the dog which seemed more like a victim than a perpetrator. Sure, he was a mean looking thing, but then again we hadn't tried looking at the Gorgon day-in and day-out for 6 or 7 dog years (that's close to 50 human years!).
The meals were another story...On day one, a little dhaba was found that agreed to feed 30 very hungry people twice a day for the very reasonable price of Rs. 40 per person per meal. This reasonable price, however, came with its own price...While the proprietor was very sweet and always ready with a smile, the dal, aloo bharta and roti got real old real soon. 5 days in, the four of us started going out for every meal; even if it meant having samosas dripping with oil and jalebis dripping with syrup at 8.00 in the morning. Truth be told, it was a good break from our typical breakfast of nothing or at most a slice of toast.
Our culinary adventures should also get honorable mention, and they would...soon...
Life fell into a nice routine. Get up, get ready, consume the calories, do some work, eat some more, bathe, eat some more, gossip till 3.00 AM while eating some more and giving the mosquitos something to feed on as well and then blissful sleep.
The sleeping also deserves honorable mention, and so it shall...
So many honorable and some not-so-honorable things to mention... Ah, patience...it will happen yet :)
You know, these initials have gotten confusing. I've lost track of who Z, D and T are. :P
ReplyDeleteT. is meli tappal kahan hai...
ReplyDeleteD is the girl who doesn't talk to us anymore... The one who is in JNU...the one who had the affair in mirzapur and the one who un-friended us on fb.
And Z is the girl who had issues with us staying up and 'making noise' at night.
P is the one who used to be our 'beti' :P