A day like any another day

NOT.

There are some days that you know, right from the start, won’t go the way you’d like them to. From the moment go, feel things are amiss. Yet you cannot put a finger on it. But you push every ounce of confusion and and that cloud of unsettledness away and power on.

Yesterday was one such day. For one, we had rain the previous night. Just when the heat peaked and I was making peace with surrendering to the forces that be (and that are hell bent on seeing me suffer), it had to go and rain. It was cool-ish when I woke up, and realised I had slept right through it. But you know what a spell of pissy rain does, in the midst of otherwise oppressive heat, right? It makes it hotter.

Cue: more sweat. And now, the beginnings of prickly heat. Oh well.

There was some solace to be had in the crazy breeze. Or so I told myself, until it knocked a massive paper lamp down, which I had to then gingerly put back together.

Turning on my computer revealed that one mini cloudburst is enough to bring all connectivity to a standstill in the boondocks where I live. The internet was down. Only for the 3894783th time this month. Something the wonderful folks at Hathway prefer to push under the carpet. And worse, try and provide remote tech-support to fix. Rather than get their tushies down here to fix it. Last I heard, fixing a broken service was also part of the service. Instead all I get, every time I call is a string of unintelligible prompts that I never quite know what to make of.

“Madam, you need to ping your device.”

“Can you connect your device from the back and check for a ping?”

“We will have to come there and ping your device.”

If I didn’t know better, I might have taken offense. And called the husband to come sit at home with me, lest someone tries to accost me and “ping my device”. Many frustrated calls later, I decide to give up and move on to the other important chore of the day. Replacing an exhausted gas cylinder. Yes folks. I never thought I’d see the day when I tweet this:

“Gas ran out while I was half way through frying pooris. #FML”

I am now that variety of aunty whose morning can get ruined by untimely interruptions in poori-making. And then takes heart in the fact that “at least the sabji got made in time”.

So I lug the damn empty cylinder four floors down, drive myself to the agency, where I have to pay, pick up a receipt, proceed to the godown and exchange cylinders. All this because unlike the rest of the country, where you call and book a cylinder, in Panjim I have to wait for the weekly (yes, it only happens once a week) gas rounds to happen, in the hope that my cylinder will time its running out really well. So that it can be replaced seamlessly.

Haha, of course that never happens. So I now indulge myself in self-service. And before you applaud me for me heroic gas cylinder acrobatics down four floors, hold your horses. I have to tell you its easy when you’re going down and the cylinder is empty. Its lugging a full one up that is the bitch. So I get some help. And we share the load 50-50. Now you can applaud my lower back and upper arm strength.

However, I had no such luck yesterday. I lugged that damn cylinder down for nothing. Because apparently the godown was shut. And it “may or may not open for two days”. And as of today, we are pushing day three of gaslessness, microwaved green tea and no breakfast. Now this is a truly #FML moment. Anywho, I argue a bit and try and push for a quick replacement, but the guy is adamant so I leave before I pop a blood vessel thanks to the slowly building pressure in my temples. But on the drive back I call him back to ask how long it might take for them to deliver a cylinder.

“Oh by tomorrow evening,” he says chirpily.

And I lose it again. “Why didn’t you give me that option then??!”

“Because you didn’t ask medam. You wanted to go to the godown.”

See what I mean? #FML.

So I make the booking. Trying to impress on the intelligent fellow that the reason I wanted to go to the godown was to get a freaking new cylinder. And that any other option available would have been fine by me. ERGO, just replace the goddamn cylinder, one way or another!

With no food at home, I decided to drive by my favourite biryani joint to pick some lunch up. This place is literally a joint, where one walks in pays and walks out with neatly packed dum biryani in aluminium foil cartons. Quick and painless, I thought. Perfect for the kind of morning I was having. I could almost taste it. I get there at 12 and ask for two biryanis parcelled.

“12.30 ke baad aao.” (Come back after 12.30!)

Having already skipped breakfast, indulged in some heavy-lifting and exhausted much energy being angry and frustrated, I was ravenous. Also, my mind was set on the biryani and given how the morning was going I was determined to take control and make at least one thing go my way. I wasn’t going to let Murphy win this one. So I walked back to my car, my black car parked in the scorching sun. I got back inside and sat in it, toasting away for the next twenty minutes until it was biryani o’ clock.

Biryani in hand, I drive home. Hot, irritable and rather peeved, but rather pleased that I can rest in peace. The internet would hopefully be fixed. The gas cylinder would be delivered to my doorstep. And I can finally turn the ac on, have my lunch and get some work done. Yessssss!

Except, on the way up to my home, I stubbed my toe.

Cue: some wincing, blinding pain and a prickly feeling behind my eyes as I blink baack a few tears.

You win this round Murphy.

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26 Replies to “A day like any another day”

  1. Haha…I would say, “join the club!” For me, one thing I planned goes wrong in the morning and I am bugged the whole day.

    Thanks to my very punctual alarm phone, I am late exactly on those days when I plan on going for a morning walk and in case, the alarm does ring on time, it rains outside (yeah, those drizzles which make place hotter)!

    Also, when I see a particular thing in the supermarket and put off buying it coz I feel I don’t need it now and when the need comes, it goes out of stock…eeeks! Well, Murphy wins whenever it wishes to, nothing can stop him!

    But all through the post I was wondering – don’t you have a lift? :-o

  2. Over here we’re allowed to keep two cylinders per house so that we can keep one as a backup for times when one runs out and is refilled. Another good thing is that we don’t have to go the gas agency, they will just swap the full and empty cylinders when they come to do the home delivery…

    I still got my self a hot plate though, it helps in times like this.. (don’t meant to sound preachy)

    So now we know that the secret to your health is the flight of stairs you use :)

    1. We are not allowed two cylinders. At least not legally. And they do the swapping thing here too. But that is when they deliver the cylinder for which one has to book it on the phone and wait for the weekly delivery rounds. I can never estimate when i am goin to run out so invariably i have yo resort to getting it myself. Hot plate is very sensible. Iv considered an induction stove or a rice cooker for the same reason. Technically i can bake something but the husband has been away and if theres one thing worse than cooking for one person it is bakig for one person

  3. The gas(bag) agency is literally a three-minute walk away from my house and guess what, they still take 2 years to replace a cylinder. Or 2 weeks but it’s still long. Goans are such lazy pests.

    1. I have to go to a forest area in Brittona, drive up a hill to a wooded place and exchange cylinders like sone shady tout. Its ridiculous. But guess what: I NOW HAZ GAS! it just came :P and Im cooking and I feel complete again.

  4. super duper post!!!!!! i’m sorry but i really had a laugh at your expense even though we all know what those lip-wobble moments are like….workmen have been in our house since dec29th. a good bawl works wonders! love simeen

    Simeen Oshidar simeenoshidar@gmail.com

    1. Aww thanks. Things began to look up when the cylinder showed up earlier than they promised and everything went back to normal. I think i might be a cooking junkie

  5. OMG, you do four flights of stairs up and down everytime you have to replace a cylinder??!
    *jawdrop*
    BTW, doesn’t Goa have pipeline gas??Back home in Mumbai, we had pipeline gas since last 10 years; I was thinking maybe all cities have that now.

    1. We do 4 flights of stairs up and down anyway. Normally i dont mind it at all. Its just hard when you are returning from dinner and are really full. Or drunk. Or are lugging the monthly groceries home. Or yea, if youre replacing a gas cylinder.

      No piped gas here. That would be such a boon!

  6. Ouch..what a sucky day…hope you have the filled cylinder now. Such days make you want to murder someone..hope the Biryani tuned out fine :)

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