Last I checked, I was still a guy with XY chromosomes, the ability to keep standing while I use the men’s room and the ability to live in my flat till the room starts to look like an MCD garbage van. I’m not proud of that last quality, but the inherent laziness (comparable to Saurav Ganguly while fielding in a match) and the comparison with the state my hostel room used to be in, made me postpone the cleaning process by some time, actually 13 months and 5 days to be precise.
Well, it’s not that I didn’t try at all. I bought a broom, then a mop, then another broom because I accidentally broke the first one while pretending to be a jedi warrior (a broom is a perfect lower middle class economic strata light-saber). Then I cleaned my hall in approximately 4 hours, then cried for another 4 hours when I saw dirty footwear trails of my own left behind while I was giving last few wipes to the floor. So, my bachelor pad/ bdsm dungeon/ caśa de loneliness is still analogous to AAP’s political policies: total mess.
It’s also not that I didn’t try to hire a maid to uplift my place’s hygiene level. I talked to a lot of maids, which in this part of Delhi means that a lot of maids took my interview, but I am yet to find a female between 18 to 30 years of age. No, it’s not that my hormones are not under control. It’s just that I live on the fourth floor of a housing complex without a lift, and I don’t want to imagine “Oh she’s an old woman, might have fainted to death around the second floor” as answer to “Why didn’t the maid show up today?”. Why only a female, you ask? C’mon! A floor wiper in a man’s hand is similar to a zip in female denims. Almost purposeless.
I finally decided to take matters in my own hands, and though it took me two long hours, I eventually found my broom and floor viper. I took a short nap of four and a half hours to rejuvenate from that tiredness, and spent the next 6 hours cleaning my house. I did lose motivation at many points through the project, but a few things kept me going:
☆I rediscovered that the tiles in my floor are spotless off-white in color, not dark brown with irregular black spots.
☆I accepted the fact I can’t get rid of the patch of fungus outside my balcony door. I have accepted it as my pet now. I think it takes offense when someone says “ewww”.
☆I kept finding things I had lost through the year at the most unthinkable places (mostly under the bed). The list includes water bottles, nail-clipper, another nail-clipper, a pen, ex-girlfriend, MBBS degree, geyser,a twin brother, another mattress, and my sanity (or whatever remains of it).
Eventually, I got fed up of all the mess around me, and did what any sensible man would do: Packed my bag and went back home in search for a cleaner environment. After two days and approximately twelve thousand questions from parents regarding my food habits, bank balance and sedentary lifestyle, I rushed back to my dustbin-in-disguise-of-1BHK and looked at my pet fungus. I think it missed me.
And… Happily Ever After.