When The Ceiling Wall Fell...
Sometimes you don't want to believe you just got lucky because you did not live that moment of pain. And you have to keep saying it to yourself and others to realise 'YES I JUST GOT LUCKY'. Imagine this: you are cooking, you are engrossed, your head bent as you stir the curry on the pot, stray thoughts in the mind... and all of a sudden the ceiling above you decides to give way. Without warning it falls bang on the spot you are standing, the sound matching that of a mini bomb. The result of living in a delapidated government flat. LOL!
I had a narrow escape because I had stepped out just at that time to have a glass of water. Looking at the slabs of brick and cement I would have had a cracked skull. Or, maybe, I just missed an opportunity to see which is tougher -- the wall or my head. Yes, I am laughing because I just got lucky. But think deep and the thought is scary. Between life and death there can be a difference of even a second. Damn these government houses! I am pushed to thinking about life and death. Why is our government so corrupt that they can't make decent accomodation or even repair the ones that exist?
And while I cried over my spoilt egg curry, my sister wailed about the mess and cleaning up to do. The neighbours who had rushed in for rescue operation also recalled similar horror stories. It was a get together none would have missed. Some refused to leave for the next one hour while my eyes remained glued to the smashed eggs. Hoarsed-voiced aunty said I should offer prasad to the poor as I just got saved, a line a colleague repeated the next day. Hmmm... dunno which is a better idea? Offering prasad to the poor or buying myself a helmet for cooking.
Roomie who had missed the scene was briefed the moment she stepped into the house. And lo, she had another twist to the story. She said the previous night she had a troubled sleep as she kept seeing the same dream thrice -- a bloody dream it seemed as three people, their hands injured and soaked in blood, appeared before her. Premonition!
For the rest of the evening I kept thinking about my hair. What, what if the bloodi thing had fallen on my head. Disaster! I would have had to have a hair cut, which means another trip to Harry & Shanti, says my sister, the lousy hair stylists who lopped my lovely hair the last time and left it "shaggy". Well shaggy is my new hairstyle I was told. But so sick I was of the shagging look, that I choose to innovate my hair and cut it shorter, a few days later after the infamous cut. I am right now having bad hair days. Anyway, yesterday a catastrophe was averted, in terms of my hair.
I had a narrow escape because I had stepped out just at that time to have a glass of water. Looking at the slabs of brick and cement I would have had a cracked skull. Or, maybe, I just missed an opportunity to see which is tougher -- the wall or my head. Yes, I am laughing because I just got lucky. But think deep and the thought is scary. Between life and death there can be a difference of even a second. Damn these government houses! I am pushed to thinking about life and death. Why is our government so corrupt that they can't make decent accomodation or even repair the ones that exist?
And while I cried over my spoilt egg curry, my sister wailed about the mess and cleaning up to do. The neighbours who had rushed in for rescue operation also recalled similar horror stories. It was a get together none would have missed. Some refused to leave for the next one hour while my eyes remained glued to the smashed eggs. Hoarsed-voiced aunty said I should offer prasad to the poor as I just got saved, a line a colleague repeated the next day. Hmmm... dunno which is a better idea? Offering prasad to the poor or buying myself a helmet for cooking.
Roomie who had missed the scene was briefed the moment she stepped into the house. And lo, she had another twist to the story. She said the previous night she had a troubled sleep as she kept seeing the same dream thrice -- a bloody dream it seemed as three people, their hands injured and soaked in blood, appeared before her. Premonition!
For the rest of the evening I kept thinking about my hair. What, what if the bloodi thing had fallen on my head. Disaster! I would have had to have a hair cut, which means another trip to Harry & Shanti, says my sister, the lousy hair stylists who lopped my lovely hair the last time and left it "shaggy". Well shaggy is my new hairstyle I was told. But so sick I was of the shagging look, that I choose to innovate my hair and cut it shorter, a few days later after the infamous cut. I am right now having bad hair days. Anyway, yesterday a catastrophe was averted, in terms of my hair.
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5 comments:
What a tragic comedy ? Can't help laughing about the egg curry,helmet and your hair.Maybe Jay Leno can use an apprentice like you...
Simply put: balobal bach gaye.
Bhagwan jab bhi deta hai 'chappar' phad ke deta hai :) Call a broker now!
imaipema...!! nakok kaidaba naraibak phei ko..manimatum nang se!!bas gana bajana shuru karo....or khub dhoom machao isi bahane.......!!!it'd have been a nice HI-funda cOOL pic....!!
Your friend should have told you about her dream before especially when she had the same dream thrice. Whenever I have a bad dream I always tell my friends or elders to tell me what my dream is trying to tell. Anyways thank God that you and your lovely hair got saved oterwise Iam sure nobody would have liked it if your egg curry got saved but not yourself. What about the building? Are you still living there? I don't think anyone should live there and even if you do the goverment should be made aware of it.
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