"'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..


Anonymous said...

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

therainandme said...

this happens with me all the time...

citrus said...