+ Rant on Civic Behaviour - 1

That was a long hiatus. Anyway, this is the start of a serial rant on civic behaviour. Here goes....

Two days ago, I was driving back home at around 9.30 pm, and got caught in a stupid half-hour-long traffic jam at the usual bottleneck (more about that later in this serial). As I parked in the basement, I wasn’t particularly in the best frame of mind. I reached the lift, and immediately heard the whine of the lift warning announcement: “Please close the door. Kripaya darwaaza bandh keejiye”. Yeah, sure!

I was on the basement, and the lift was stuck on the first floor because some uncaring ass hadn’t bothered to close the lift door properly. I could hear the irritating music and complaint through the lift shaft two floors down, and I know that all the eight flats along the corridor on that floor could hear it too. And the fellow who left the door open would have heard it right through his trudge to his front door. And nothing was done about it. The basement had a guy ironing clothes. He would have heard it too – didn’t do anything about it. The watchman was out at the front of the building, and he had to go up and close the damn door.

This had happened at least once earlier too. We could hear this monotonous alert on the third floor, and my wife finally had to go out and close the lift – stuck on the second floor!!

This kind of nonsense goes on all around, and really pisses me off. And this is not the only thing that happens in our building. The basement has a large bin where residents are supposed to dump their garbage bags. It is routine to find bags lying on top of the lid, and next to the bin too. I would bet the refuse makes them queasy. I would also bet that they scrub their toilets clean everyday.

+ New Orleans - A Letter to NY Times

* I've been kind of putting my life on hold for the last couple of months. Shouldn't, when it isn't worth it.... 

New Orleans is not the beginning. It’s just the latest. It’s only that till now there has been a foreign agent to focus on, simply because the average American is so content to be totally co-opted by the government. There was no reason why he had to rack his brains for the real reason – the government was raping the world, but ultimately it was taking care of him. Bush has been a paradigm shift. He has been as globally short-sighted as the rest of the American presidents, more rampant around the world, and been stunningly flamboyant about the sufferings of people. Dubya with the imaginary Texan hat on his head has talked about the “axis of evil”, threatened to “nuke ’em”, ruined a nation, but to the average American it hasn’t mattered because it hasn’t affected him. And for those who think with their dicks, it makes for great television, too. New Orleans is different. It has shown, now that there is no Osama or Saddam, that Bush doesn’t know shit, he doesn’t care, and that he has a shockingly bad sense of humour... maybe also that Fahrenheit 9/11 wasn't half as much anti-Republican as realistic. Eight years of Bush will have done incalculable damage to the world, but now at least the average American will realize that it is going to do incalculable damage to America itself. Bush despises the poor (they are an irritating burden who come in the way of his having a whale of a life), couldn’t care less about the blacks, and finds it a great strain to think beyond his oil buddies. Surely, all those rig losses will make their owners instantly rich after their insurance claims. Yes, eight years of Bush will have been a great strain - at least. I don’t think America - or the world - can afford the next four years with an idiot as president.

+ The Magic of Murphy

I didn't know when he came in because Murphy didn't even knock when he turned up sometime last weekend. Must have been Saturday night or so. And the door must have been open. Well, the balcony window was certainly open.

Saturday night was good, and the British Open golf was quite absorbing after Friday's one-sidedness. Sunday dawned and, by the time I was up, there wasn't any reason to feel it was going to be a bad day. But then, I didn't know Murphy was hiding inside.

One phone call was enough to leave a bad taste in the mouth; it didn't help any that this was only the latest in a series of small events that were more or less screwed up. In the night, it started to rain and there was a strong gust to go along with it. It had rained a bit on windy Saturday too, and the inset balcony was quite drenched. I had placed a folded piece of washcloth under the glass door, but it wasn't necessary.

Sunday was different. About 20 minutes into the rain, a glance at the glass door, and water was already creeping in. By the time the rags were found and the swabbing begun, the water was kind of flowing in steadily. Some more checking found that four of the windows weren't waterproofed well enough and water was seeping in between the aluminium frame and the cement. At two places, the water was trickling from the sill on the floor.

This is a new, two-month-old apartment, and dammit, it was evident that the work was shoddy as hell. Not that I didn't know it; it was just that now I was getting unbearable proof. So, do I go and scream at the builder tomorrow? How likely is that?

Every little thing needs to be told about half a dozen times under great stress to avoid immediate violence on my part; and after all that, only a complaint to the builder would get even a hole in the switchboard covered with a switch dummy. The tiles are laid badly, the initial specifications and ultimate reality have huge gaps, there is evidence of silliness and bad workmanship all around....

It has been an unrelenting and unwitting battle of attrition to get the apartment livable, and I am already worn thin. Rather than explain or scream, It would be easier now to just take a club and brain people on the spot.

Looking ahead at the coming week, I am filled with such dread I don't even want to think about it.

Murphy is one real &*%^$&^!!# I really don't want to encounter.