A Terrible Morning Rescued by a Nice Afternoon and Quiet Evening

Thursday, June 27, 2019
Bombay

A Terrible Morning Rescued by a Nice Afternoon and Quiet Evening

     Namaste from Bombay!
     So today was a truly mixed bag. It was the sort of day that you don't really want to remember but which keeps replaying in your mind with such insistence as to leave you sleepless. I am hoping that by recounting it here, I will achieve catharsis and get the worst aspects of it out of my mind.
     I was up, as usual, a tad too early again--about 4. 30 am. Attempts to try and get back to sleep did not work, so I just gave up, got up and got on with my day.
    Morning To-Dos done (blogging, reading, etc.) I had my breakfast of muesli and coffee and set off, as planned, for Dad's place. I was supposed to go with him to the telephone company to register a complaint in person about his landline which, for the past one week, has been giving trouble--a really loud static noise when he dials or receives calls that makes it impossible for him to hear the other person on the line or carry out a conversation. Several calls to the phone company to register the complaint have not worked and he is at the end of his tether.
     In past years, he told me, he would go over personally to the phone office, meet the linesmen where they gather in the morning to receive their assignments for the day and would often actually bring the linesman over to his place to get the job done. Now, he says, he has lost the heart for such enterprise.When I offered to go with him, he agreed that we should meet at his place at 10.00 am and set out.
     So I left my studio and was walking towards Dad's house, when the first incident that shook up my day occurred. I was strolling along, quite mindlessly, when I noticed a middle-aged Catholic couple walking across the street a few paces ahead of me. As I needed to get to the other side, I crossed the street and became aware, very vaguely, that the women's lips were moving and that she was saying something, to the man walking besides her. I did not hear a word she said and assumed that they were chatting, in normal fashion, the way normal human beings do.
     Next thing I know, the man turned his head, saw me, caught my eye and then before I quite figured out what was happening, took the umbrella that he was carrying and gave the woman two really hard whacks with it on her upper arm and yelled at her, saying, "What do you mean by shouting at me, on the road, in front of other people?" I was so shocked as I had not even been aware that they were in the midst of a quarrel as the woman had said, whatever she said to him, so softly.
     When I did gather my wits about me, I turned to him and said, "Stop hitting her. Are you crazy?" He then turned upon me, yelled at me and said, "You mind your own f-ing business. Don't interfere." And to my shock, the woman too turned towards me, and said, very softly, "Please don't say anything. Just walk on."
       Of course, I was too riled up by then and I told the man to have some respect and to be a gentleman. This then really set him off and he began with the verbal abuse. He called me an f-ing this and an f-ing that and he would not stop. At this, I threatened to call the police (although, to be honest, I had no idea what number to dial for the police in an emergency, and I must find out soon). He defied me to go ahead. All the while, we kept walking on the road with the woman completely subdued and not responding at all. It was clear that she was used to being cowed down by this violent bully and had lost the spirit to retaliate or defend herself in any way. At the bend in the road, the couple, who were still walking a few paces in front of me as the man kept up the steady abuse, turned the corner as I walked through the gate into Dad's driveway. No, there were not a lot of other people on the road at this time so there were no eye-witnesses to this incident of domestic abuse except myself.
     Needless to say, I was shaking and could not bring myself to even tell Dad what had happened as I was afraid of how he would react to the incident. A few minutes later, I was ready to leave to run Dad's errand with him--he was all dressed and waiting for me to arrive.
     My mind was completely occupied by the terrible incident into which I had been dragged and I was shaking both inside and out by the nastiest experience I have had since coming to live in Bombay. In the rickshaw with Dad to the telephone office, I could barely speak.
         We met a Mr. Naik at the office who turned out to be a very nice man. He listened to Dad's complaint and assured us that he would send the linesman to Dad's place as soon as he turned up. It was almost 10.30am by then and not a single linesman had showed up for work! I now understand why most people have switched from MTNL--a government company--to the private multi-national ones and why I was warned, when I first arrived here in Bombay, during my Orientation at the USEFI, to get a phone plan with any company other than MTNL.  Poor Dad! Taking Mr. Naik at his word (he actually gave us his mobile number and told us to call him if we had any more problems), we left. I have to say that Mr Naik was really nice and treated us really well and was far more personable than I had expected.
     Back in a rick home to Dad's where I intended to spend about a half hour before I left for my afternoon's appointment, I found the door to Dad's flat open. Hence, I walked right into Russel's room only to find that Rohit, Dad's Man Friday, was lying across Dad's bed! Needless to say, he straightened up guiltily as soon as he saw me, but it was too late. I pulled him up immediately and told him that this sort of behavior would not do. I told him that Dad would see red if he knew what I had just seen. I was wondering whether or not I should report it to Dad when in walked Dad to find out what the commotion was about. Well, I had no choice but to tell Dad. It was only at this stage that Russel piped in and told us (for the first time), that every evening, when Dad and I go off to Mass, Rohit helps himself to a pillow and sleeps on Dad's bed!
     Okay, that was the last straw that broke the camel's back. Dad, predictably, saw red and told him to leave the house immediately as he was not interested in keeping someone in the house that he could not trust. For his part, Rohit refused to budge because apparently he has no where else to go.  You can just imagine what a situation we were in. Ultimately, half an hour later, after Rohit had apologized and assured us that we would have no reason to find fault with him, and we gave him fair warning-- Three strikes and he was out for Dad had another altercation with him while I was in South America a few weeks ago--the situation was resolved. Clearly, Dad does not have the mental energy to go through the process of hiring and training someone else and although Rohit is not the ideal employee, Dad is simply helpless in terms of replacing him.
     I had to leave about 45 minutes later and since I was running late for my 12 noon Mass, I hailed a cab to take me to my next appointment. But, of course, the entire showdown left a very bad taste in my mouth and I kept hoping that after two horrid episodes, I would not have to encounter one more.
     My next appointment was at St. Michael's Church in Mahim where the Feast of Our Mother of Perpetual Sucour was being celebrated with Mass and the Novena. Now, as all of you know, I have been a faithful devotee of Our Mother ever since I was eighteen years old--a devotion that was passed on to me by my Mum who was also a faithful devotee. My Mum and I used to go together to the Novena in Mahim, when I was a teenager and prior to that, my entire family used to go to the shrine every Wednesday when I was growing up in Bombay Central. In fact, it was Dad who initiated the Novena at our local church and who has conducted it faithfully for 15 years--he only gave up about a month ago when he passed on the baton as his eyesight is now so bad. So when I got to know that the Feast was today, I had made up my mind to brave the crowds and get there for one of the masses.
     As t turned out, my friend Marianel told me that she would be attending the 12 noon Mass after which she would be going over to her sister's place for lunch--and she invited me to accompany her. Now I know her sister as Bulu (her pet name) for years and I was happy to accept the invitation. So, having reached the church early (by 11.35 am for the 12 noon Mass), I actually managed to find a seat right in the front and felt very pleased with myself.  I had no idea where Marianel was sitting but we had made plans to meet after the service at Fatima Cold Storage which was a few meters outside the church. 
     The Mass went well and was followed by the Novena which included a very nice sermon. The priest was a good preacher and fired by the zeal of thousands of believers all around me, I was deeply pleased that I had made the short trip to Mahim to get there.  On cue, Marianel and I connected, as planned, at Fatima, and walked in really humid heat to her sister's place about fifteen minutes away (I'd have made it in five minutes, but Marianel broke her ankle, a few months ago, and walks with the speed of a geriatric snail). Anyway...
     We had a lovely afternoon at her sister's place where a number of cousins and their children were invited. Bulu has one of those rarest of things in Bombay--a cottage. She actually lives in a small two-storey bungalow called Sal House which has a tiny but perfectly landscaped garden. When we did eventually reach the place, we sank down in the air-conditioned living room and, thankfully, I had an ice-cold gin and tonic placed in my hand which I gratefully accepted. There was a delicious range of nibbles that kept us going until we were served lunch. It was a most delectable meal of Thai Green Chicken Curry, Vegetable Pullao, Pickled Pork (served with sannas and neer dosas), meat chilli fry with green peppers, fuggias (East Indian dough balls) and a cucumber salad. Although Bulu did most of the cooking, Marianel had a big hand in bringing it all together as she is an ace chef. For desert, there was a mango mousse and caramel custard--both lovely and very refreshing.
     My lunch gave me a chance to finally meet members of Bulu's husband Conrad's family. His mother Lina Saldanha used to be my fifth grade Science teacher and a  stricter, less terrifying teacher would be hard to find. To my horrible luck, she became my class teacher in the sixth grade. Although I have to admit that I have never forgotten the Science I learned under her, she was simply too frightful a person for me to have any warm feelings towards--and I have realized, over the years, that I was not alone in my impressions of her. She was always very proud of her three sons, however, Cedric, Conrad and Clarence, and we never heard the end of them when she was our teacher.  Of course, she doted on them and they have all turned out well and, somewhere in her grave, I bet she is cheering at their success. I met Clarence and Conrad yesterday and we spent a long while reminiscing about my school days, people we knew in common in Byculla and Mazagoan so many decades ago, and about how all those areas have changed as the demographics have shifted.
     It was past 4.30 when I rose to leave. I called an Uber that took me home directly after what had been a very nice afternoon in the company of people who knew each other well. I tried to take a nap but it was too late in the afternoon. Instead I sat reading my book The Cuckoo's Calling (which I am very much enjoying). I called Dad to find out if the linesman had been--and what do you think? No one had showed up and Dad could barely hear me as the problem persisted. I then called Mr. Naik to let him know that he had let us down. He told me that he had instructed the linesman to go to Dad's and he will definitely be there tomorrow--and so the saga continues!
     I used my free evening at home to catch up on calls to my cousins. In fact, I thought I would go over and visit my cousin Linnet, but she was just going out shopping and told me she would not be home. A phone conversation followed. A little later, I called my cousin Bonnie and had a very long phone conversation with her too. Before I knew it, it was late evening and while I continued reading, I started to think about having something light for dinner. A small piece of Italian Bake given by Selda, one of Dad's neighbors, and a cup of soup with crackers saw me through dinner as I enjoyed the last of my fantastic Rajapuri mangoes for dessert. I am back to watching House Hunters International after a very long time and saw two episodes--one set in Puerto Vallarta in Mexico, the other in Samara in Costa Rica.
     Some more reading later, I turned off the light and went to bed but found the terrible scenes of the morning replaying like a stuck record in my mind and making it really hard for me to get to sleep.
     Until tomorrow...