And registered your flat shall be
Am in quite a sprightly mood today...managed to get my flat registered finally :). In fact ever since I moved into my new flat in April, I have not really had a chance to put up my feet over the weekend, relax and simply sip some tea. There are countless niggling issues associated with purchasing a new house (few of those still remain..so can't really see the contents of my tata tea pearl pet bottle dip dramatically over the coming month).
Am keen on updating my blog more frequently now... got a boost when I saw a comment from someone who I has not virtually dragged to the altar :). Thanks daneshia. There are a few topics that I would like to write about. Also want to dedicate a small post to a close friend of mine who recently left to pursue his MBA. We have been good friends for 7 years, and I will surely miss him. Jack hope you caught the train!
Am ending this post with another short story I wrote last year. Its called The Pest from Best. (Best is a sleepy but pretty village in The Netherlands where our company is headquartered. I actually wrote the story after coming up with the rather cute title. I wanted to format the heading so that 'best' fell below 'Pest' and there was a single vertical line connecting the top circle of the 'p' with the bottom circle of the 'b'. The magazine editor obviously thought otherwise :( ). At Best, the walk from the office to the local station is a 40-minute stroll on a nicely winding road, along farms with longhaired ponies grazing away in gay abandon. The road looks incredibly picturesque when the trees lining it put on their autumn overcoats. I remember the time when I smuggled a camera into office just so as to take a picture of those ponies on my walk home. Sadly the battery had to breath its last just then. Anyways, here’s the story:
The Pest from Best
The story kick starts one February evening as I was packing for my maiden business trip to Best, Eindhoven. My flight was in the early hours of next morning and packing for the trip was still in disarray. As I proceeded to gather my scattered possessions, stuffing them randomly into one of two open bags, my heart gave a lurch and my throat suddenly went dry. The reason – my eyes fell upon a ugly, large brown cockroach that had taken pride of seating place on my best T-shirt.
Joe (the cockroach being christened henceforth in an attempt to breathe more life into his character; ‘his’ was an assumption- I was terrified enough without bothering to ascertain whether it was a male member of the species) was supported on only 5 hairy male legs and was also missing one of his antennae, probably having lost them both in a dispute with some accomplice of his over a small matter of dining rights to a rotting cardboard piece.
He sat pretty motionless, glaring at me though piercing eyes, his lone feeler tracing out imaginary circles in the air. I dashed off to get the pest extermination spray from the kitchen. Although I returned in a jiffy with the spray can in hand, Joe had disappeared. My reasoning that five legs wouldn’t take him very far was off target - even after ten minutes of solid searching, I was not able to unearth him. I sat down sweaty, tired wondering what to do next. If the reader at this point is wondering what was there to wonder about, he or she must have surely never felt the joy of a creepy roach slithering over a bare leg under one’s jeans. I unfortunately have experienced this esoteric pleasure in a crowded bus where I could not even scream out. I was therefore not particularly eager to make contact with cockroaches again in the near future. So I sat down to think how I could trace Joe and get rid of him.
My tryst with cockroaches goes back further than the bus incident. Bangalore- a haven for engineers, also welcomes cockroaches with equally open arms. Maybe being the IT (read InsecTopia) hub of the world explains why. Confrontations between both parties are therefore inevitable. But my worst experience goes back to one night when a raging thirst drew me to the kitchen, where I spotted the floor maculated with a dozen or more large cockroaches who seemed to be having a ball. You could literally visualize the couples waltzing thorax to thorax to the lilting music of The Blue Danube. Those were the good old days when all I had for my defense was an aging broom. It took me ten minutes and loads of pluck to hunt down and squash each one of them. I gave a whole lot of them a decent burial by plonking them into the drain outside my house.
The incident of the night had a permanent effect on my psyche and was the reason why I was keen to stay clear of this story’s protagonist and his complete lineage. The unpacked items lying scattered on the bed drew me out of the dreamlike state I had wandered into, and I resumed my interrupted packing session.
~
I was probably destined to “Meet Joe Black” again. On reaching the Eindhoven apartment, as I began pulling my things from the over stuffed bag, out flew Joe menacingly and deposited himself on the bed. There was no mistaking him- a chassis on five legs with one antenna is a pretty uncommon sight. I was in a bit of despair as here on alien territory, I was robbed of my trusted broomstick and insect spray. I earnestly began hunting around for a weapon to end the matter once and for all. After managing to find a seedy looking tabloid stuffed behind the sofa, I rolled it up and returned to the bedroom with a threatening look in my eyes. But Joe it seems had taken a liking to the game of hide and seek. Again so perfect was his hiding spot that I could find no trace of him.
As I sat down having the lost the battle yet again, I suddenly realized the appalling enormity of my loss. What if the maid who cleaned the house found Joe? That was the last souvenir from India she would have desired. I began to panic as I thought of the huge fine for littering apartments that would greet me when I returned to Bangalore. I began to picture even more depressing scenarios. What if Joe settled down with a pleasant looking female Dutch cockroach and raised a horde of kids who overran the city of Eindhoven as did the spiders in Arachnophobia! But there was little I could do as yet another mini search proved futile. Out of desperation, I slammed the front door and marched out onto the streets to get him off my mind.
There is a certain incisiveness and bite in the fresh Eindhoven breeze that solaces you and gets you out your depression. This was just what happened. As I drank in the new sights and sounds of Eindhoven, I began to think of the exciting and challenging week ahead of me, the places I would visit, the people I would get to meet. My bad mood slowly melted away and I began to enjoy the stroll around the neighborhood. When I returned to my apartment after the short walk, you could have asked me who Joe was and I would have given you a pretty blank stare.
~
The following week went off in pretty much six-sigma fashion. My business trip had proved to be really fruitful, and the weekend extremely enjoyable. I was pretty cherry even after the long travel back to Bangalore. At home as I unzipped my luggage, still reminiscing the time I had had, out scrambled Joe in typical deja-vu fashion! He looked weary and a bit jet lagged and had put on some weight under the influence of warm Dutch hospitality. Strangely enough though, I did not try to reach out for the spray can this time. I don’t know whether it was because I was feeling so upbeat at that time or because I almost felt relieved to see him. I suddenly began to see him in a new light. I began to feel a new respect for his creed’s tenacity and staying power. Getting hold of an old greeting card, I gently transferred the veteran on to it and lead him to the windowsill from where he staggered out into the warm night. Had he turned back, he would have seen me giving him a one-handed salute.
Probably this is something that Old Mac Donald missed in his farm - a roach...
Nice going camel.....
Posted by
scorpigle |
June 13, 2005 6:29 PM
Nice one - liked the part which explains your thoughts on seeing "Joe" in Eindhoven. Also loved the detailing of the roach's "persona" - nicely written :-) On the whole, very good imagination.
- Kanchana
Posted by
Anonymous |
June 16, 2005 6:50 AM
Very nice story Camel! Did it actually happen?
Posted by
Unknown |
June 17, 2005 3:20 AM
Hi Duncan, the story is fiction, but I have got up many a night to see big roaches walking around my house. Luckily I have shifted to a new house now where the sun shines in more often. Haven't spotted one here yet :)
Posted by
The elderly camel |
June 17, 2005 5:25 AM
Great story as usual! I simply admire your descriptive skills. Great talent!
Posted by
Suyog |
June 19, 2005 10:32 AM