I’ve forgotten what it was like to live with electricity cuts. Making impatient phone calls to the local electricity department to find out ’light kab aayegi?’, swishing newspapers, hand fans and other suitable paraphernalia to beat-the-heat, candles, silly games to pass the time, frets and curses, this was all Lucknow.
Because afterwards, there was the inverter, that saviour from quotidian load-shedding that’s part and parcel of North Indian summers.
With a rude shock I realized yesterday how spending incessant hours at an air-conditioned office had lulled me to forgetfulness. The flickering tube light suddenly died at 10 last night and it dawned upon me that the unexpected had indeed occurred. The next three hours were hell. And they had the gall, they had the gall to do it again at 5 in the morning. Ahhhhh.
Suddenly the surprise gift of a midweek holiday due to a bandh had lost its luster.
Weather must have gotten exponentially worse within the 10 day vacation I spent away from Chennai- it never is anything to boast about anytime of the year here for when it rains, it floods the streets, the office, the everywhere, and becomes a scourge.
To cut the story of a long (and very uncomfortable) day short, I was really looking forward to just going to sleep and escaping to office first thing tomorrow. And bang!, there she goes, there she goes again…
Of all the times to face a power cut, nighttime’s the worst-est. Combine it with sweltering summer of Chennai and you have a winner! Its unendurable, the very touch of cloth on skin elicits a burning feel, you twitch and fidget, and generally feel insane.
Last Christmas and New Year’s eve spent in Delhi had me running back to Chennai, very relieved to be rid of chilblain and cold water (I‘m one of those freaks who like to wash hands recurrently, so you can imagine) but I find myself doing a volte-face and I am sure now, winter might be tough but this is agony.
Its only going to get worse, and I’m not being pessimistic here. Suddenly being over-worked in office doesn’t sound too bad. I could, after all, take a nap in the dormitory, return to the house- I will never call it home- for a wash in the morning, and trot back to office. Or I could get a huge bathtub installed in my tiny nondescript bathroom...maybe I should research the use of solar batteries to power up iceboxes… or…
*Courtesy Lost
3 comments:
Very well written, captures the agony of those nights spent on terrace or outside the house waiting for that spark in the light bulb like Edison.
But I relate it to the games of hide seek we used to play with all colony children out in the dark - that WAS fun. And all the mohalla gossips with "aunties" forming a huddle and "uncles" taking a walk just to keep an eye on children.
But the more we depend on electronic gadgets (I sleep/eat/study/enjoy all with my 15.4 inches of LCD) the more the fun goes out of those unplanned social gatherings.
Nice post - makes me write my own memoir - someday!
Till then - Happy Birthday :)
I agree! I'd baulk at the suggestion if asked to sit with the colony uncles or play with kids but back then ...
And maybe it was a non-metro thing, I can't imagine the same thing happening in Delhi-Noida.
You're making me miss Lucknow, and this is something I never thought would happen! :D
Good observation, it is a non-metro thing. Kids in Noida may be a few steps ahead of me in terms of electronic dependence.
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