A Week Without “Appa”

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Quiet. How I'd like it to be sometimes. I went to the temple almost every day. I didn't have anyone asking me, “Appa, are we done?” I could just cement myself there, without hurry, for a few hours. I could recite the Rudram without somebody tugging at my sleeve. And yet, every now and then, I would think that it would have been nice to have the kids there too. I didn't have to worry about picking up Akhil or Sahana from somewhere. I didn't get messages from my wife asking me to make a pit stop at the Indian store or Costco. I didn't have to look at the clock and suddenly remember that someone had basketball or tennis. It was as though life had come to a standstill. And I liked it. In the middle of a normal workday, I could be in an important meeting when Akhil would come charging into the room. “Appa, please approve.” For a brief second, I wouldn't even understand what he was asking. Then I would realize that I had absentmi...
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All that glitters is white

This forms the main ingredient of my sunday once in two weeks. Taking my laundry bag and walking upto a mile to wash my clothes at MOBIL is undoubtedly the most painful experience of the fortnight. Imagine doing this on a wintry afternoon at sub-zero temperatures. The pain would start two days before actually doing the laundry. The most common feeling would be - Oh No! Not again! The next obvious question would prop up almost at the next nano second - How I wish I had a car! Sadly though, student life does not yield handsome income, and we have to make do with what we have. But, this is definitely a much better situation to be in than washing it on your own. That would have been even more frustrating. No wonder I can imagine most of the hostel guys to wear the same old clothes for a long period of time. The colour fades to different shades, the original colour is lost by not washing it at all, and the brown tinge adds a totally new stinking sensation to your clothes. Most of them would dread to go near the hostel guy fearing a bad outcome. No wonder, fellow hostel guys flock together, and only a hostel guy can understand a fellow hostel guy's situation. Thankfully, here, all these things can be avoided.

The machines at MOBIL are just great. Pop in 2$ in quarters, come back in half an hour, and your clothes are washed to a nicety. I get reminded of the Rin advertisement back in India, where a beautiful lady is draped in a lightning white saree. The freshness associated with the clothes, thanks to the softener, brings a nice feeling to the senses. After this, the dryer is filled with the washed clothes, and post heavy turbulence for about 25 minutes, out emerges the clothes, as if it was hanging in your courtyard the whole day. I am ready to bask in the glory of washed clothes for two weeks.

Two weeks later...

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