Drenched but not quenched – II

I have just found out that there is more than one way to get ‘drenched’ in the monsoon.

When the lights went out, I thought it was the usual temporary monsoon glitch. When the lights did not come back on, I ventured out to check. It turned out that, thanks to our lackadaisical landlord, the meter room was taking in water through the roof, posing the very real threat of an electrical fire. The power supply company had pulled the fuse and would replace it only if the room was waterproofed and dry. With the rain showing no sign of stopping, I was staring at the prospect of at least eight days without electricity! No lights, no fans, no fridge, no mixer, no geyser, no washing machine, no iron, no computer or internet, no television, no battery recharge, and worst of all, no music. Thanks to the ongoing deluge, my world had changed in a matter of moments.

The landlord was not traceable, the power company adamant and I was caught in a time warp – the time before Thomas Alva Edison.

After the initial impotent fuming and wondering what to do, I gathered myself together , sat by a window where there was still sufficient light and picked up my crochet (something one can do without electricity). As I worked, the memories of other times and other places came flooding in.

Hubby and I used to retreat to a nearby village to recharge our batteries. Ironically, it was a place without electricity! We rose with the sun, ate our supper by the light of the moon, and used kerosene lamps as needed. Baths were at the well (with sufficient arrangements for feminine modesty) – refreshing douches of cold, crystal clear water from an underground spring. As I shivered and gasped through today’s ablutions, I marveled at the hardier, more adventurous person that I once was. Yep, been there, done that and how!

After a night spent in the company of a guttering candle, I awoke at war with the world. I decided to attend morning Mass even though I was all of a-grumble at my Maker, and found myself being admonished in the sermon - a grateful heart never complains! Well, I do complain to the Lord and don’t plan to stop, but I am also grateful for the gift of gleeful memories that even a power failure cannot quench.