Skip to main content

The Hassle

Now that I've shifted houses, there's a couple of things I'd like to share. Call it advice if you will. Or a warning.
  1. If you're shifting out of a nice home located in a fancyish part of Bombay because you're having issues with the nutter masquerading as your room mate, consider not shifting. There are easier alternatives; one of which would only require you to dispose of the corpse. And as we all know from the papers, there are plenty of places to do that in this city. 
  2. Unless you're in a financial situation where you're holding down two jobs and considering selling one of your less vital organs, think about investing a few shekels in professional packers and movers. It spares you the vision of your room swamped in a sea of plastic bags containing the surprisingly large trove of your possessions. 
  3. Of course, you'll miss one or more of the bags in the ensuing melee of moving. And those bags will, by definition, have something you think is very important. Like underwear, for example. Or kitchen knives.
  4. Ask your close friends to help you move. Apart from staving off the inevitable ennui, you can also avoid the possible hernia you suffer when attempting to pick up the box telly or suitcase.
  5. If you're thinking about procuring a vehicle to move stuff in, don't choose your cousin's ancient Maruti 800. Or, if you do, make sure that it really is in working condition. Including the air conditioning. Otherwise, what will happen is - 
  6. You take the car out at 1:30 pm on a Saturday, since that's when there's the least amount of traffic. Theoretically. In sweltering heat, in a stifling box on wheels, you will find S.V road jammed with every loony in the city, meaning that you only drive in 1st or 2nd gear. Then, about 10 minutes from your destination, you notice smoke emanating from the bonnet. A minute later, the car stops. 
  7. You get out, and with the help of a good samaritan, push the damn thing to a side. Curse softly and steadily for a couple of minutes. Call your friend and tell him that the moving has been postponed. Singe your hand while opening the now broiling bonnet cover. And then get lucky. 
  8. Not that way. 
  9. There's a mechanic on the opposite side of the road, who hems & haws for a bit, opens the radiator cap and announces helpfully that there's no water in it. Which, you point out to him in a martyred voice, you already knew. He then earns his 100 Rs. by pouring water into the radiator, only to cause a lava of gunk and rust to erupt out of it. The car is then started.
  10. Maybe its frustration brought on by the heat, the traffic, or your non-existent sex life. Whatever the reason, you suddenly develop a raging devil-may-care attitude and decide to continue driving to your old house anyway. 
  11. You don't call your friend and tell him about the change of plan. Instead, you move everything by yourself, only to discover that the washing stand and the ironing board will not fit into the car, come what may. 
  12. You realise you'll have to come back for them on Sunday. 
  13. You begin the drive back to the new place. A kilometre after the mechanic's place, the car stops again. You extricate yourself out of the rust heap, rope in another good samaritan and push the car to the side. Again.
  14. You wonder what you have done to deserve this. 
  15. You begin to giggle hysterically.
  16. The car starts 10 minutes later and you drive home. 
  17. You would willingly slay someone for a beer. Instead, you begin unpacking and arranging stuff. Your cousin invites you to dinner, so you shower and drag yourself to his place, eat and come back to the house. Look in the mirror and notice that you're now the colour of well-done toast.
  18. At 10:30 pm, you pass out on the bed.
  19. On Sunday morning, you're introduced to a new level of body ache. Also, you realise you have to go back and pick up the rest of the stuff. 
  20. You take the train.   
Song for the moment: It's a raggy waltz - The Dave Brubeck Quartet

Comments

Anonymous said…
Good lord, this post was hilarious. I could not stop laughing!
G said…
:) Hope I never have to go through an experience like that again.

Popular posts from this blog

Night Boat

I usually don't write honest pieces. They're true to facts but I tend to lather my emotions and thoughts with a heavy dose of attempted humour or misdirection. This post deserves some raw emotional honesty, though.

Yesterday, 29th August, a Tuesday (or should I say, another Tuesday) was about me making choices. It was raining quite heavily when I left for office, sheeted down the windows of the train throughout the 1-hour journey to Churchgate and kept going with renewed intensity by the time I made it to the entrance, looking verily like something that had drowned in a gutter and lain there a while before being discovered by a cat and dragged in. I made the choice to go to work as I suspected my boss would be there and not because I wanted to go.

I was right about my boss but that cardiac fizz of being right flattened out rather rapidly once I realised, around 11:30 am, that no one else from my team of 20 had bothered to make a similar effort. And, some of these guys live 5 …

Last of my kind

(This post hasn't come out as well as I wanted. But I'm still pissed off, so.)

Why do we have heroes? What is it about someone that triggers a decision to nail our colours to their mast? I don't have a neat answer so what you read from here on is both an explanation and an exploration. In a post-modern world driven by counter-points, certainty is a luxury.

I missed the boat when it came to India's ODI cricket madness. We moved abroad in the late 80s. When I left, my friends and I wanted to be Kapil, Kris or Sunil. When I returned, god was getting comfortable on his heavenly couch and all was right with a world I did not recognise. I had missed Sachin's opening batsman debut against New Zealand, the hullabaloo of the Hero Cup and other notable moments. So, I was interested in cricket, not any particular sportsman. Not even during the '96 World Cup. When India muffed it against Sri Lanka, I hurt for the team, not for a player.

Then came Dravid. And, personally, …

Let her go

Have you noticed how we throw things out a lot more than before? Of course, city-dwellers like us have more, now that disposable incomes are the norm. Does it also allow us to dispose of things so easily? I was the object of much mirth/ridicule at work today because I wanted to get a golf umbrella repaired. One colleague wondered if it was worth the effort, another asked why I did not just buy a different one while others chuckled when they realised neither of these thoughts had occurred to me. I trudged off, wondering if they were right. What exactly was driving me to take the trouble?

I think back to to the 80s and living in my Thatha's (grandpa) house. Today's 'use-and-throw' culture would have shocked him to the core. The man was the epitome of prudence. Since we weren't exactly floating in doubloons, the family followed suit. Thatha wore the same watch for over 50 years. A small umbrella, bought by my mother with her first salary, was well on its way to becom…