This morning I woke up to this beautiful blue sky decorated with cute patches of crispy white cotton wool. It felt like a drop of dew after months of drought. You ought to experience the worst to be able to appreciate the good. After experiencing infinite number of days of multiple layers of soot and unimaginable levels of air pollution, today looks good. A delightful, cheery and shiny morning with occasional eclipses as the bright orange ball of fire hides behind the visibly bigger cotton patches.
I woke up as usual and sipped my glass of hot water that the loving husband lovingly brought me. He then barged into the washroom for a quick bath before leaving for work. I thanked the inventor of mixer grinder as I ground the leftover saag from last night and kneaded it with the flour for the paranthas. Boiled a few potatoes and made the masaledaar stuffing too. The man who is a foodie and enjoys every bite was delighted. First star of the day, I dreamt.
Task number 2. Switched on all the lights and tried to wake up the girls singing ‘Darling aankhon se aankhein chaar karne do’ in my melodious voice as they curled once again into the cozy razaiis. “Stop it, Mamma. 5 minutes more!” Couldn’t blame them but the strict mommy sprung into action and tickled them out of the bed and pushed them into their respective bathrooms. Fed them and packed them off to school with a “I’ll miss you.”
Dropped in at Mom’s place for exactly 7 minutes and rushed back home at the speed of light to escape the house-help’s wrath for making her wait for precisely 3 minutes.
Once she is home, I am like that witch on the broom who runs from here to there at super speed clearing up the mess that we jointly created throughout the previous day and the Mahabharata Yudhha that had taken place just that morning . I hate winters for the extra workload of folding the jumbo razaiis, the jackets, the sweaters, the blazers that have to be hung all around the house. Plus the number of times one has to turn the washed laundry to get it all dried.
I was folding the washed laundry when I rushed to the househelp who was cleaning the utensils. A whiff of air brought in an old yet unforgotten scent from yesteryear. That’s when the mind started playing this ad.
I was confused as to why me of all the people on earth. And why 555? This was one of the few things I disliked from what our generation had to bear with. Such sick colour, texture and odour.
“Kiran, yeh 555 jaisi smell kahaan se aa rahi hai?”
“Pata nahi Didi. Mujhe bhi lag raha hai.”
Actually this has been going on since past 3-4 days and today I studied the pattern. It was only happening every time Kiran was washing utensils. I made a few calculations in my mind and drew up a picture.
“Pakka! Bartan ki tray ke pass aaloo sadd raha hoga.”
“Par Didi aap to har do din mein tray saaf karati ho.”
“Kahin dish washing gel ki smell toh nahi?”
“Naa…pata nahi kya hai. Ho sakta hai bagal waale ghar se ho.”
This is when the detective in me caught the fumes coming out of the geyser plug point. It was melting. A bright and sunny morning with 200 ka fatka early in the morning. Glad that nothing major happened. Just thought of sharing so you check your plug points well in time.
While you’re off to check your connections. I’ll savour this parantha. Now you know the reason for my health…right??? 😀