Saturday, 24 January 2009


Every time change comes to me, to my life, its associated with loss of sleep, and piles of dust:
* Seven years ago we wallowed in filth one fine day in Cambridge, loaded a truck, bid our precious boxes of books (and pretty little else) goodbye and went our way while the boxes went their way on the transoceanic journey east.
* It was fourteen years ago (maybe thirteen?) that I begged people for help in fixing my big suitcase since my mum had banned me from buying a new one, and somehow, loading my stuff (meaning clothes that I never wore since I lived in jeans) in the luggage van of the train and so on, reached home triumphantly, back from my nasty one-room hostel dwelling - the room was nice, very beautiful with a balcony and so forth, I had lax rules on cleaning though.
* Leaving out the smaller moves here and there, now, today, I am in the midst of a big one. Meaning dust bunnies the size of dogs have emerged from behind the cupboard that StyleSpa dismantled with aplomb. My phone is ringing continuously with people asking for directions. My brain was going to explode as I tried to unravel the connections:
The washing machine has to be locked by Siemens. The door to the backyard has to be broken down my local carpenter (or husband). Washing machine has be packed by Agarwals Packers (& Movers). Washing machine has to be loaded into truck by A P (& M). Unloaded likewise. Set up over there by local electrician. Unlocked by Siemens. Its unique ability to wash for hours without dealing at all with the splotches of dirt on the monsters clothes to be enjoyed, of course, by me... Invariably the local electrician has called me a billion times asking to do his bit. Siemens (which is the first step?) is MIA. A P (&M) should be here any minute now...
If you are in the mood, I can tell the story behind all my other stuff in excrutiating detail as well. Oh wait, here is my phone.
& yes, I am moving about 10 meters from my current residence (okay maybe 3 kms). & the fingers hurt from cleaning the switchboards (which are caked in cement) in my new ground-floor-home-with-a-garden(YEAH!)-but-too-close-to-the-main-road(HONK HONK!). & i am going now to buy me a cycle since ta-daa i can cycle (or walk or better still, run) to work from next week.

& Someone CLAPPED for me as I ran countless number of circles around the little park outside here this morning. You know, just to get out my frustrations and get charged up for the day, and since its unlikely I will come all the way here to run anymore. I also climbed up the 24 floors to my roost here, since, you know, ground floor and all from next week, and how cool this is and ooh I am going to miss everything and gawd the bathrooms....)


PG said...

moving? new place?

choxbox said...

so i cant climb 24 floors to get to your place any more? not v fussy, will make do with house in lovely green campus.

Anonymous said...

all washing machines are like that wonly

dipali said...

All the very best for the move!
Sometimes the local ones seem more tedious since they are spread over a longer period, and one has greater expectations of doing lots of the moving oneself. Enjoy your new home.

wordjunkie said...

Are you moving into the campus?

Nice to know someone other than myself is breeding dust-dogs.

Parul said...

I would have commented on the post but the only word that is ringing in my brain is GARDEN. How awesome can life get?

My word verification here is FIEST RAT. I think they know it's me.