Whaaaaaaaat....

I open my dreary eyes, each eyelid weighs a ton, every miniscule muscle strains, such rebels these tiny muscles are, thinking they could rise against the all conquering mind. They are crushed with the brute force of the mind, rather they are lifted; slowly the eyes take in the vista. Blurred in the beginning, the focus goes wild, slowly the eye tweaks its focusing mechanism, the vista before me comes into focus. Im inside a room a small 8 feet X 8 feet room. A section of the room is partitioned from my view by a glass sliding door. The room itself is hardly inviting to my presence inside it. The ventilator fans, above my head whirrs in protest against my presence, the fan blades provides the only source of sonority inside the room.

With measured steps like an underwater diver walking on the seabed, I come face to face with the sliding doors. Its actually glass but Im unable to see my reflection in it. Now it seems that my hands are tied to the sides of my legs. This is proving to be a physically draining activity so far inside this room. I was weak when I found myself inside the room, I wasnt sure of the time, but atleast half a day would have passed without any nourishment. The strain on the body and mind was showing. My fingers grip the doors handle, in an instant my body and the muscles convulse to the feel of cold metal against raw skin. With every ounce of energy I pull the sliding doors to the right. First it doesnt budge, then with a concentrated effort, I channelise my energy and pull the door to the right.

My senses are assaulted, too much information to assimilate in the alien area so far and the partitioned area makes the mind take in more information. The color is dull and uninviting, the is a distinct smell though not given to any particular odor. Yellow tiles, criscrossed with cream tiles on three sides, the fourth being the sliding doors. The shape of the tiles and the smell reminds me of a hospital, a morgue both of which is hardly endearing at the moment.

I look inside to my right and the wall in front of me. Nothing distinctive to capture my attention so far and nothing threatening or intimidating. Slowly I turn to my left, I suck in my lungs instinctively and unwillingly Im forced take in the smell of the room, my senses are frozen. I forget to exhale and with my mouth agape, stare at the alien being jutting out of the wall on my left and high above my head. It appears to have one eye in its circular gray cranium. The most shocking thing was yet to come, around the singular eye, there seemed to be tens of small pores. Their function, was yet unknown but there were far too many to be misinterpreted as a mouth or nostrils. Waiting, with my breath held against a screaming pair of lungs that yearns my mind to give the command to exhale, I expect the alien being to make the first move.

After what seems to be aeons of microseconds, it is true when they say sometimes the smallest time period seems to be the longest, knowing that the alien being is not going to make the first move, I step into the room. Not one moment did I take my eyes off the dormant being. Only when I was totally assured that the alien being wasnt going to do anything, did I look about the area surrounding the alien being. Thats when I noticed the crazy looking dials that somehow seemed to be connected with the "higher being".

With trepidation, my hands slowly reach out for the dials. In fact, my hands are slowly pulled towards the dials. My thoughts are muddled, yet Im aware that this is probably the defining moment so far and something is about to transpire. From all accounts so far, something sinister, something surprising and shocking is about to happen. My hands have a life of their own, they turn the dials clockwise, suddenly the higher being spews out through its tens of pores, first it freezes my bone to the marrow. The next instant with more tweaking from my hands, my skin scalds. Finally, the higher being takes advantage me, it has been studying me all along. Straddling in half asleep and brain at its tired existence the shower head takes its revenge for squeezing out its life everyday.


Whats so special about the shower? you ask. Laziness, sloth, procrastination, dirty dishes, dirty laundry, smelly socks, unmade matteresses, half cooked meals......naah these dont belong to the exclusive set of single guys. Ablution!!! What is it about guys that makes them take long showers the moment they step into a bathtub and turn on the shower? No dont get any mischievious ideas. Im not saying it doesnt happen, there is something else too that entices and hold guys back.

Exam or not, late or not my shower takes me a minimum of 20 minutes. What the hell am I doing in the shower for 20 mins everyday? Soaping and lathering, you may think. Nope, Im too lazy to soap and lather, I just stand under the shower for that long. Insane, you say, I plead guilty and I most definitely would agree anyday.

What do I do under the shower? The sound of the water hitting your body, your hair, the water hitting the shower screen and the bathtub, it never fails in its metronomic accuracy, everyday its the same sound, but everyday it never fails to soothe me. I think, I chew, I plan, I dream about the past, the present, the future. I think about the past, the time when I had lots of hair on my head. I relish the present, how many more years will it be before I lose what I have now, how thin the hair gets with every passing day. Blame the lead content in the water, blame L'oreal, Vive, Dove, the thickening shampoo never thickens. A future without any hair!!! a hairy nightmare indeed.

I plan my day, go over the previous day. Every single day that I start, I plan it beforehand. Nothing irritates more than an unexpected surprise, an extra piece of responsibility or work. I never shy away from work or responsibility, infact I crave more responsibility but I like to have a control over what I do and I hate plans going awry. As I way saying, I plan the day in the shower, I plan everything I do, but my plan about rationing the time under the shower has never succeeded. One of my lifes funny ironies.