Of Soot and Awesomeness

So, there was a little accident in the house when the Fellow and I were both away. Our two and a half year old LG refrigerator decided it had had enough of life and spontaneously (or so I imagine) combusted. The result? A charred and bombed out fridge, curtains that cannot be used ever again except perhaps as rags, a kitchen that looked like it had been in Pompei, wardrobes that need dry cleaning, and wall resembling something out of a horror story, complete with blackened spider webs hanging off the ceilings.

I won’t bore you with the details (and there are a *lot*), but let’s just say that it took the Fellow and me nearly 10 days to move all our belongings to a new house and get about 90% soot free (10% being the clothes that were awaiting their turn at the dry cleaners). Of course, even before we were 5% soot free, the broadband internet connection was in place and the DTH service on track. We were home so to say (C’mon, you know home is where the broadband is). And just as soon as something of a routine was in place, however dysfunctional it might be (I mean, no pillows, or pillow covers, no functional kitchen, no fridge, no broom even, and just 4 curtains), I left to attend a friend’s wedding in Bombay and finish some incomplete work. And just in time. The next day we were allotted a bigger house, meaning that the just moved into house would have to be moved out of and into a new house again, making it our 4^th move in as many months. Yes, that is the screaming inside my head that you can hear.

But before you start feeling bad for me, remember the Fellow and how awesome he can be at times like these. Yes. I do have nice things to say about the Fellow you know. Anyhoo, he insists I stay in Bombay, finish my work and not stress about moving house. He would do it all. And being the good Indian wife that I am, how can I not listen to my husband right?

PS: The next post shall be a visual one. Then you may feel bad for me and my soot-filled soul.

PS2: If you follow me on Twitter, maybe the next post will help you forgive me for bombing your timelines with self obsessed talk about soot and my traumatised life.

Of Bosses, Chicken and Bonfires

It was 7.30 pm and there we were, the Fellow and I (keeping to our resolution of a healthier lifestyle), getting ready to enjoy a quiet dinner of home-made pav-bhaji, apple juice and an episode of The Waking Dead or Bones (depending on who sulked more) when the phone rang. It was the Fellow’s deputy boss giving him a heads up – the boss and he (and wives and kids) were coming over.

Now under ordinary circumstances, this would have meant we groaned and whined about the evening being ruined and how we’d probably have to be up late into the night listening to the ramblings of a chap who really enjoys his drink. But not today.

Today we didn’t have the time to complain – we were too busy cleaning up. Thankfully the maid happened to come by at that exact same time and so we had 3 pairs of hands stuffing things into the spare room and dragging furniture back in place. So in went stacks of cds, a huge stuffed dog, a large bag of coins, a roll of toilet paper, a lounge chair, a couple of helmets, piles of papers and files, one suitcase with the Fellow’s clothes and two handbags full of books. There was also a moment of brilliance when I reminded the Fellow he’d wanted to enjoy a bonfire for quite some days now, and today was as good an opportunity as any for it. And so the maid was dispatched to get some wood for the bonfire, dust off the garden chairs and put my newly potted plants to one side to avoid breakage.

15 minutes later the house (what part the guests would see) was presentable, the alcohol had been reviewed, ice-cube trays emptied and refilled, hair combed, a couple of disprins had (by the Fellow), and onions and tomatoes chopped for a quick snack.

20 minutes later we were fake-smiling, laughing and offering drinks. 24 minutes later the Fellow realised he needed to get some more soda and vanished (for the next 30 minutes), returning triumphant with lots of chicken tikka.

And the rest of the evening was spent around a bonfire, discussing how good the chicken is.