I was a tad nervous before meeting her for the first time. As I had feared, it didn’t go as well as I had planned. Just as the guard at the apartment had informed me, she knocked my door that afternoon.
I hate bargaining. But I still do it because I hate more when I feel cheated. So once I mentioned what I expect from her, the bargaining ordeal began. She quoted four hundred. For a single man, who leaves in a one room flat, I thought that amount was astronomical. We had a few exchanges. It so happens that I either turn rude or I turn meek when any bargain process turns lengthy. To her dismay I turned rude. But to my satisfaction I sealed the deal for rupees two hundred and fifty.
The next day at six in the morning she announced her arrival to do the day’s chores. The late riser that I am, bleary eyed I let her in. I returned to the comfort of my quilt with some regret for asking her to come so early in the day.
Reality bites. More to a person just out of the confines of, dream laden, carefree, university campus. With each passing day my mind was being subjected to answering difficult questions about future and in which direction was I heading in life and stuff like that. I have always believed that inspiration should be the reason, the only reason, for any pursuit in life. Nonetheless, I am beginning to realize that in order to make a worthy life out of my drudgery existence I need, along with inspiration, some discipline. It was this line of thought that compelled me to ask the maid to come so early in the morning. With the idea that getting up early would help me go through the day better: in a more disciplined manner. Unfortunately, proclivity to keep myself horizontal, for hours after sunrise, defeated my good intensions.
After a week, though, the days began to have a certain rhythm to it that I settled into without further fuss. The knock of the door at six in the morning; me going back to sleep after letting in my maid; she leaving the flat unannounced after she was finished with the chores; me finally leaving my bed panic stricken; reaching the office late; doing my time in the office; spending good amount of time in the evening reading; preparing dinner; worrying about what lay in future just before escaping to the subconscious world.
This pattern was abruptly and rudely broken when I met with an accident. I broke my wrist, hurt my back, but today I feel lucky to escape with my life. I would love to tell you how it all happened. Would like to give a filmy touch to it actually. But then that is another story. Hopefully that story would be my next post, when I have both my hands strong enough to type in the story.
After three days in the hospital, another day at a friend’s place, I decided to shift back to my flat; believing I would be able to manage all on my own, that, I would be able to take care of my self. The left wrist has a plate, inserted during the surgery, making it useless in my day to day living. To add to my pain, my seriously hurt back made it hellish by hampering my movements. It didn’t take more than a couple of hours for me to realize that I needed help and immediately regretted shifting to my flat all alone. By dinner time I began to panic.
The next day ‘didi’, my maid, knocked my door in the morning. She threw one glance on me and went about her duties as usual. If she was surprised to see me completely awake at that hour and my hand plastered, and my movements slow, painful and awkward, she didn’t show it. That morning without any request from my side she washed the dishes, cleaned my bathroom in addition to her daily paid duties of sweeping and mopping my room. She even filled my drinking bottle with water.
‘Didi’ has migrated from Bangladesh and it so happens that we never had a conversation before- other than the day when we argued on her renumeration. That involved only numbers and our incompetence in each other’s language did not come to the fore.
That morning, as I sat on my bed watching her silently put my room in order, I felt exposed of my temporary handicap and my helplessness. But the panic, pain and sadness that had kept me awake that night started to wither away. I began to feel confident in the knowledge that ‘didi’ would be around and visiting me daily. I would be able to manage after all.
I hate bargaining. But I still do it because I hate more when I feel cheated. So once I mentioned what I expect from her, the bargaining ordeal began. She quoted four hundred. For a single man, who leaves in a one room flat, I thought that amount was astronomical. We had a few exchanges. It so happens that I either turn rude or I turn meek when any bargain process turns lengthy. To her dismay I turned rude. But to my satisfaction I sealed the deal for rupees two hundred and fifty.
The next day at six in the morning she announced her arrival to do the day’s chores. The late riser that I am, bleary eyed I let her in. I returned to the comfort of my quilt with some regret for asking her to come so early in the day.
Reality bites. More to a person just out of the confines of, dream laden, carefree, university campus. With each passing day my mind was being subjected to answering difficult questions about future and in which direction was I heading in life and stuff like that. I have always believed that inspiration should be the reason, the only reason, for any pursuit in life. Nonetheless, I am beginning to realize that in order to make a worthy life out of my drudgery existence I need, along with inspiration, some discipline. It was this line of thought that compelled me to ask the maid to come so early in the morning. With the idea that getting up early would help me go through the day better: in a more disciplined manner. Unfortunately, proclivity to keep myself horizontal, for hours after sunrise, defeated my good intensions.
After a week, though, the days began to have a certain rhythm to it that I settled into without further fuss. The knock of the door at six in the morning; me going back to sleep after letting in my maid; she leaving the flat unannounced after she was finished with the chores; me finally leaving my bed panic stricken; reaching the office late; doing my time in the office; spending good amount of time in the evening reading; preparing dinner; worrying about what lay in future just before escaping to the subconscious world.
This pattern was abruptly and rudely broken when I met with an accident. I broke my wrist, hurt my back, but today I feel lucky to escape with my life. I would love to tell you how it all happened. Would like to give a filmy touch to it actually. But then that is another story. Hopefully that story would be my next post, when I have both my hands strong enough to type in the story.
After three days in the hospital, another day at a friend’s place, I decided to shift back to my flat; believing I would be able to manage all on my own, that, I would be able to take care of my self. The left wrist has a plate, inserted during the surgery, making it useless in my day to day living. To add to my pain, my seriously hurt back made it hellish by hampering my movements. It didn’t take more than a couple of hours for me to realize that I needed help and immediately regretted shifting to my flat all alone. By dinner time I began to panic.
The next day ‘didi’, my maid, knocked my door in the morning. She threw one glance on me and went about her duties as usual. If she was surprised to see me completely awake at that hour and my hand plastered, and my movements slow, painful and awkward, she didn’t show it. That morning without any request from my side she washed the dishes, cleaned my bathroom in addition to her daily paid duties of sweeping and mopping my room. She even filled my drinking bottle with water.
‘Didi’ has migrated from Bangladesh and it so happens that we never had a conversation before- other than the day when we argued on her renumeration. That involved only numbers and our incompetence in each other’s language did not come to the fore.
That morning, as I sat on my bed watching her silently put my room in order, I felt exposed of my temporary handicap and my helplessness. But the panic, pain and sadness that had kept me awake that night started to wither away. I began to feel confident in the knowledge that ‘didi’ would be around and visiting me daily. I would be able to manage after all.
Comments
Yup its been a long time. Hopefully I will get my act together and will key in things that are clouding my mind these days.
In the interim, I hope to read something on Enigma & Octave. What say?
'Simplicity', 'inspiration', and 'discipline' are just excuses for people like me to stay lazy and idle.
For people who actually achieve, do not waste time playing words. They just get up and start doing the things that need to be done.
Enjoyed reading about it and learned a lesson as well. Thanks.
Yes, the incident was a lesson for me too. Thanks for the comment and thanks for reading my blog. Hopefully you will continue the patronage.
It would be lovely if I knew your name. So it would be nice if u post ur comment with your name.
Thanks.