Blame it on the weather. Four plus months of almost perennial downpour and I swear I think my ears are growing vestigial gills, mould lining my leathers, slippery moss on the sidewalks, and what really irks me is the kid with that really, really bad cold. He’s sniffling and snotting and is one of those brats who will not blow his fool nose. He chooses instead to use his palm to wipe off the extra mucous bits and then wipes it on his shirt and sniffs and snorts and makes that liquidy, annoying sound that makes you want to take a cricket bat and make of his head a snot "dahi-handi". Maybe blowing his nose and emptying his nostrils into a tissue is deemed uncouth in his remote part of the planet Melmac. Whatever the reason, he has one humongous head full of snot.
But I digress. Despite the weather or because of it, there is always something to do. Something that must be done. And then when you're done with that, there is more. And then even more. And then you sit for a minute to rest. GET UP! Get that lazy butt of yours back in gear!
And right there is another problem: forcing yourself to enjoy it. It sounds like a date with Simi Garewal.
And no matter how long you keep your washing on the makeshift line that traverses the bedrooms, living room and the kitchen, the ceiling fans just tend to swirl the dampness around, and after four days the damp odours begins to fester.
I should have learned my lesson from the previous monsoon in the first place and gone and gotten that dryer when it only costed an arm.
Take my advice folks, when you find those patches of fungus forming in your pits, when birds are drowning in midair, and priests are cursing openly in the streets then go down to the store and buy a dryer. Or if you already have a dryer, you can try to get someone to fix it.
Thus far I went with the same pitiful mindset. For instance, I just bought this relaxation CD. A 15-minute deep muscle relaxation audio that supposedly will help me lower my blood cholesterol. So I tried listening to it. And instead of deep muscle relaxation, I got deeply teed-off at myself for not being able to relax, for not effectively using the 15 minutes of relaxation, and letting into my consciousness my grocery shopping list, my stock portfolio teetering on the brink of disaster, and then age old questions like: "Why is there hunger and why can't I get rid of this belly fat?"
Where was that feeling of calm? Where were the dreaming big dreams of snow clad mountains, babbling brooks, and deep sea fishing excursions to the Andaman Islands and being covered in chocolate by Nigella Lawson? Or, er, maybe those were just MY dreams.
Where was I? Aah yes the mindset, which begs the question,” Why do we in India with our plentiful sunshine need to buy a dryer of all things?” The answer staring me in the face, as glaring as Obaba Bin Ramdev’s beard has only just registered. As of the last monsoons I did not have one, and was feeling that emotional strain that comes with a water-soaked peeling wrinkly epidermis (epidermii?)So I went to the store and joined the crowd of people thrusting their credit cards at the saleslady who was being extra surly and slow. Who could blame her? For eight months in sunny weather she stood alone behind the dryer counter while we all sauntered past her with nary a glance. And now we were clustered round her in supplication like candidates hoping to obtain a political party ticket.
ME : Please PLEASE can I buy a dryer?
SALESLADY: Will you also take the extended sales warranty?
ME: Yes of course I’ll take two extended warranties.
SALESLADY:Hmm, I don’t know....
ME: And the dryer with the largest capacity... along with two plugs and this
voltage stabilizer… plus this toothbrush. PLEASE!
So wise consumer that I am, I bought the dryer with the maximum “load capacity” which is the binary value of how heavy a dryer is. I was in luck, to carry it into the house the company “installers” arrived a week later and they moved it into place, thus saving me and my manhood the stress of trying to move it on my own and avoiding the subsequent ignominy of requiring to wear a long term helpful crotch-device.
This dryer comes with a 4-yeat warranty which means that if the device does not work as originally intended anytime during this period, you may return it for a full refund ( ha ha just kidding).
It merely means that you are required to keep the original bills and the packaging they came in along with the sealing tape and provide proof of identity along with proof of address of ownership, together with an affidavit on 20 rupee stamp paper witnessed by at least two upright citizens who know you, that the appliance has been used in accordance with the rules and regulations (which the company has the right to revise from time to time) the company without prejudice to itself and depending on the gravity of the problem will have someone call you during the latter half of 2012 to let you know exactly which month the service person will be able to inspect the appliance.
This particular dryer is one of those new “energy saving” appliances , which means that rather than draw power from the mains , which costs money, it sucks the power out of all the other appliances in the house when it is working. When it boots up you can actually see the fridge shrink and writhe, and hear the pitiful cries of the mixie, which we have used for many years and does not understand what is going on. My niece is concerned that maybe I am overloading the system, but I reassure her using the term “volt- amperage” which I think maybe is a screw broken off from the fuses and short-circuiting the wiring.
If you cannot install a dryer I suggest you iron all your damp clothes before you wear them, or else you will smell like a dead rodent, which will make you use more deodorant; this will then force your body's natural smell-ejectors to reroute the odours to the mouth, where it forms bad breath, which is the Universe’s way of telling you that you should maybe get a dryer.
So, ergo-ipso facto-colombo-oreo, life is too stupidly busy. I end up longing for time to learn the samba or just do some carpentry so that I don't feel quite so much like a stoned hamster careening around in its running wheel.
You ask what would I do if I had nothing I had to do? Well on sunny days I'd lie in my hammock and read books, lots and lots of books, but in the rains I write blog posts with slightly hidden homicidal references.
