and the taps went phut. ok. not yet. but i imagine it will. soon. it does every midnight anyway in my wing. till seven in the morning. i always clear myself at seven in the morning. that's when the taps come to life. and everyone else is asleep.
i have always felt a sense of ownership over any bathroom i have ever used. at home. at every hotel and guest house. the flight loo. not the one on the indian trains though. neither the ones at the indian railway stations. i have never used them. and no: i have traveled extensively by trains.
not the ones in the hostel either. i have, in fact, always been repulsed by them. the idea of sharing such a precious pleasure with a certain racial group whose severely dirty habits have always miffed me is a concession i cannot consign myself to. (there are exceptions, of course) the idea of sharing the same toilet that will probably remain uncleaned for two days is little better than a nightmare.
i cannot blame anyone though. in fact: i feel a sense of pity. for whom? the family with a child. or an octagenerian. i can manage without a shower for two days, yes. what about them? i hear it's a situation crippling the whole of goa. an irony with the sea all along. but that is something hardly very fantastic in our country. it's anything but ordinary.
let's see how the two days go. as they say: hope is one thing we indians are excellent at practising.