It's been months since I last opened this blog account. This write up or rather a rant should have been posted a year back. But I for some weird whim that must have taken hold of me then didn't. And so, now I do the honour of presenting the one thing I'am good at writing- rants I type out brashly with bristling self-righteousness at a moment and then forgotten about a day or two later. Looking back at this piece I wrote, I smile because I note with equal measures of joy and disdain that I have not really changed and would probably write the same thing if it were to happen again. (Fingers crossed, this should NOT happen) Without rambling any further, here it is:
I would say yesterday, Sep 2, was one of
the most irritating things that I’ve ever experienced. Now let me tell you why
and what happened. It started out beautifully, with the rain setting in and the
weather was calm and very pleasant, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself, after
a good dinner of Rotis, Paneer Butter Masala and Fried Rice.
It was 10 PM and I
had received a text from my cousin I hadn’t spoken to in a long time, and it
felt good talking about trivial topics. And then suddenly, whooshity doosh, the
electricity goes off. My first reaction was neutral, and I thought, “Hey, it’ll
be back in another 5 minutes.” But 5 minutes stretched into an hour passing by,
and the electricity wasn’t back yet. I was irritated as I had college tomorrow
and did not want to absent myself and I was muttering constantly, throwing
choice swear words here and there, and my mother chiding me that the
electricity was irritating her too, and I need not add to her already bad mood.
But as time started passing by, I got extremely piqued. To put my moodiness at
bay, I witnessed the scenario outside, through the bars of the open windows.
The trees outside looked topsy-turvy, like the roots were above and the
clusters of branches and leaves were below, and the inky-blue sky along with
the occasional chill breeze soothing my terse self and I was getting high and
laughing for no reason like I was drunk on God-knows-what. Then came the
onslaught of mosquitoes to ruin my mood. Like possessive and needy lovers, they
made slow love to my sweaty body. They kept buzzing around my ears, biting my
hands and legs, leaving behind stupid hickeys. And very obviously, I did not
like it because who likes mosquitoes leaving behind a part of them to remember?
I covered myself with my dad’s white veshti, but no, they had to hover
around, giving me the company I did not require. It’s true, you know, that
misery loves company. I was misery personified then, and I did require company,
but of the air conditioner and the fan, not the damned mosquitoes. I started
proclaiming aloud how our country was not going to develop any further if they
did not take care of basic facilities like ensuring strong electricity for the
masses. I worked myself up into some sort of fervor, and I tried to even be
introspective, but I really couldn’t, what with a sweat covered blanket, the
hovering mosquitoes and a sleep deprived state. I fell into fits of deep
slumber now and then, and would wake up to find that the electricity had not
returned. Calls were made to the Electricity Board (EB), but the charming
workers there did not pick up the calls. Fraught with a case of nerves and a
desire to chop off the heads of anybody who passed even the slightest comment
to irk me, I really did not know how to distract myself. Then after what seemed
like an eternity, my grandfather said that the electricity would return only at
7 or 8 AM in the morning. I accepted defeat, claimed this was all some sort of
conspiracy, and before you could tell me “Shut up”, I was asleep.
I wake up at
6 AM, go to the living room, crash on the couch and sleep again. The mosquitoes
probably realized that despite the pleasure their company gave me throughout
the night, they had to leave, and they did so very reluctantly, if I may say
so. I’m guessing the extremely efficient EB workers were well versed in reading
the clock, because the electricity returned after a mere 2 hours of the
promised 7-8 AM slot. And that too for a span of 10 minutes or so, but hey, I
should be extremely grateful right? I mean, what is a sacrifice of more than 8
hours of sleep and sanity compared to for 10 minutes of the rhythm of the fan
which spewed a gush of air? Nothing, I tell you, for I am a very ungrateful and
unreasonable person. I mean, the EB workers are martyrs for letting the
residents of my area stay awake for a mere 8 hours while they gird their loins
in order to work much, much later after the electricity snapped. And while I
write this, I observe a squirrel climbing the frail stem of a Tulsi plant pot
placed outside some one’s window sill on the third floor. I don’t know why I
even wrote that down. And the electricity hasn’t returned yet. Wait, why am I
even writing this whole incident down?
