"'Truth is strange," you know, "stranger than fiction' - besides being more to the point" - Edgar Allan Poe

July 17, 2004

Eye Crispy, ahoy!

I ain't no physicist, but I know what matters
- Popeye the sailor

Saturday morning brings new life into the maids of the house, knowing that the weekly pay is just round the corner (post-lunch, in fact). The laundry gets handwashed with extra punch, the floors are scrubbed to sparkle (as seen on TV!) and as a bonus, the resident cook makes her own version of gujju undhiyan. As a rule, I never wake before noon on a saturday; my aunt walks in screaming in a wierd marathi-konkani mixture of oaths and curses to get me to bathe before we run out of hot water; promising that the heavens will fall on me, satan will adopt me as his boybitch, God (one of a million, chosen randomly) would drop lightning/ brimstone(?)/ killer frogs on my head, that killer lice would infest my balls, and all in all, that a complete satyanaash would takeover the rest of my earthly days. That's silly. How could we run out of hot water when we use instant geysers?


See you later..

3 Comments:

Anonymous said...

Sympathy, Pity, Apologies... What more can I say?

therainandme said...

this happens with me all the time...

citrus said...

=D