When I was twenty-one years old, I put myself up in a dormitory named “Vanvas” for some time. Providing shelter to students and employees getting mediocre salaries, that dormitory had people from different states of the country. We shared bathrooms and a filthy dining table lain in a hall next to the only kitchen. The occupants at the dormitory always looked flustered if not annoyed. They were generally found grumbling about communal facilities to each other at every nook and cranny of the building that had five floors. It was natural for me to hate that place too. I’d gnash my teeth in anger, on seeing unflushed toilets. The sight of faeces clinging to a closet would make me scream my head off. Every day, I’d encounter a disastrous event somewhere on one of the floors. For instance, sometimes, I woke up to unusual gurgling noises, the stench of bidis being smoked, and the sound of my alarm clock. Tring, tring… Tring, tring...
However, amidst all that mess, a bizarre man, protecting his sanity, lived there. He was a subject to me, as his overly disciplined and punctual behaviour irritated and intrigued me simultaneously. Having observed him for a month, I didn’t find him doing anything else besides religiously following his damn routine. Thus, it was imprinted in my mind, and I knew exactly what he’d do at 7 pm next Monday.
He’d start his ritual early in the morning, briskly walking up and down the stairs to burn some calories. Come what may, he’d leave the dormitory for work at 08:45 am and come back by 06:15 pm. After that, he’d take a cold bath and have a warm dinner at about 8:15 pm. On Thursday, he’d start washing his clothes from 09:00 pm and smoke a cigarette on the building roof around 10:30 pm every day.
Seeing his life continuously running like a washing machine available for free to the general public, I’d think about my life. Unlike him, my life was uncertain and unplanned. I didn’t know what I’d do the next day; I had no timetable to follow. Thinking about living his life for a day made me shudder, let alone for a month. How could a person not get bored, following a monotonous routine?
One fine day, I woke up early, around 5 am. I knew I’d find him brushing his teeth on the second floor. To prove myself right, I rushed towards the floor. There was him brushing his teeth with a yellow, blue coloured toothbrush. Honestly, it’d have made me happy if I hadn’t seen him there. Now, I desperately wanted him to fail in adhering to his boring routine. He had to miss an important hour of any day; a tree, standing its ground in a storm, would soon be uprooted.
I decided to ask why he had a strict routine.
“Don’t you feel the same every day?” Standing beside him, I somewhat nervously asked. He had brushed his teeth.
He looked at my reflection in the mirror and said, “huh?”
“You follow a routine without fail, right?”
He laughed with a snort, and a blob of phlegm came out of his mouth and stuck to the edge of the washbasin. It disgusted me; the hanging disaster was about to fall off anytime soon.
Overlooking that, he uttered, “A few years ago, I was a reckless and rebellious man. After coming back from my work, I’d smoke and drink moonshine. After drinking, I’d get involved in fights and spend nights in lockups. I slept with many whores and did the craziest things you can’t even imagine right now. I was having the time of my life back then. However, some years later, I realised that time is precious. It’s not easy to follow a routine every day. It drains entire energy from your body and creates a vacuum inside you. You feel that you’re always running behind your schedule. You can’t stop, and you mustn’t stop.” Dabbing his stubble with a towel around his neck, the man left. The hanging disaster, detaching itself from the basin, fell flat on the floor.
Did I really ask him that question?
However, amidst all that mess, a bizarre man, protecting his sanity, lived there. He was a subject to me, as his overly disciplined and punctual behaviour irritated and intrigued me simultaneously. Having observed him for a month, I didn’t find him doing anything else besides religiously following his damn routine. Thus, it was imprinted in my mind, and I knew exactly what he’d do at 7 pm next Monday.
He’d start his ritual early in the morning, briskly walking up and down the stairs to burn some calories. Come what may, he’d leave the dormitory for work at 08:45 am and come back by 06:15 pm. After that, he’d take a cold bath and have a warm dinner at about 8:15 pm. On Thursday, he’d start washing his clothes from 09:00 pm and smoke a cigarette on the building roof around 10:30 pm every day.
Seeing his life continuously running like a washing machine available for free to the general public, I’d think about my life. Unlike him, my life was uncertain and unplanned. I didn’t know what I’d do the next day; I had no timetable to follow. Thinking about living his life for a day made me shudder, let alone for a month. How could a person not get bored, following a monotonous routine?
One fine day, I woke up early, around 5 am. I knew I’d find him brushing his teeth on the second floor. To prove myself right, I rushed towards the floor. There was him brushing his teeth with a yellow, blue coloured toothbrush. Honestly, it’d have made me happy if I hadn’t seen him there. Now, I desperately wanted him to fail in adhering to his boring routine. He had to miss an important hour of any day; a tree, standing its ground in a storm, would soon be uprooted.
I decided to ask why he had a strict routine.
“Don’t you feel the same every day?” Standing beside him, I somewhat nervously asked. He had brushed his teeth.
He looked at my reflection in the mirror and said, “huh?”
“You follow a routine without fail, right?”
He laughed with a snort, and a blob of phlegm came out of his mouth and stuck to the edge of the washbasin. It disgusted me; the hanging disaster was about to fall off anytime soon.
Overlooking that, he uttered, “A few years ago, I was a reckless and rebellious man. After coming back from my work, I’d smoke and drink moonshine. After drinking, I’d get involved in fights and spend nights in lockups. I slept with many whores and did the craziest things you can’t even imagine right now. I was having the time of my life back then. However, some years later, I realised that time is precious. It’s not easy to follow a routine every day. It drains entire energy from your body and creates a vacuum inside you. You feel that you’re always running behind your schedule. You can’t stop, and you mustn’t stop.” Dabbing his stubble with a towel around his neck, the man left. The hanging disaster, detaching itself from the basin, fell flat on the floor.
Did I really ask him that question?
I was still in shock, for I had never thought about asking him that. Nevertheless, I felt really good because of my mini-adventure. The very next day, I was awakened by some unusual noises. Unlike the past, I stoically embraced the morning. Yawning, I pondered on visiting the second floor. I thought - “He is undoubtedly brushing his teeth right now”. With no anticipation, I carried my sixty-five kilograms carcass and headed towards the second floor.
He was not there!
He was not there!
***
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