Cold Water

Standing in the bathroom with a half-washed shirt in one hand, a scrubber in the other, looking at a bucket half filled with soapy water and another full of clothes starting to smell like dung because they were soaked two days ago, I was cursing the guard for locking the switch which turns the geyser on. You see, there was this rule in the hostel where I used to stay, that the geyser can be used only between 6:30 to 8:30 in the morning and then between 5:30 to 7:30 in the evening. The guard used to lock the wooden box in which the switch to the geyser was located.

So that particular Sunday morning at 10:30 I had tried everything from safety pins to hammer, to open the lock that blocked me from getting the blessed hot water I wanted to wash my clothes which I had soaked on friday but was too lazy to wash them right away.

So there I was, shivering in the cold water and still cursing the guard when I realised that I had only three days left for my almost monthly trip home. Then I started cursing myself because I need not have taken the trouble to wash clothes since I could have just put them in the machine at home and relaxed. But there was no way out. I had to finish washing, and then had to take a cold water shower (brrrrr..). What a way to begin a sunday!

Well I did finish off with washing the truckload of clothes and took the much dreaded shower. Even though the experience did not teach me to live without hot water, but it did give me the confidence that I could manage to live a clean life in the absence of it. Come to think of it, cold water did feel good, and it does have its merits.

I wouldn't die for a glass of hot water when I'm thirsty, afterall...