Water, water, everywhere...will someone please get me a mop?!

I have discovered a profundity. The more things change, the more they remain the same. Or words to that effect. Said profundity was discovered soon after my installation into my new home with Faz (I know that sounds like I am a washing machine, or an Aquaguard wall unit, but please, quell that thought).

What brought this on was the quiet, incessant and horribly familiar plopping. Of Water. Through the Ceiling. Water woes and me...there is some elemental magnetism at work here for, everywhere I go, water seems to just follow me around, waiting for a chance to Murphy me. (When? Where?! There, there, there and there!)

I suppose I should be thanking my lucky stars that, this time, the plops avoided our bed and headed for the bathroom. The downstairs bathroom, below ours, that is. And as luck, or physics, or laws of something-else-or-the-other would have it, this meant ripping out the flooring of our bathroom to get to the problem, which seemed to be the pipes running between the 2 floors.

So, after a week of clearing out our bedroom, and dust-covering anything that could not be cleared out, I watched on as the plumber, and his minions, tore things apart in the attached bathroom.

Plumber, looking down his nose : Yeh bahut kharab kam kiya hai, madam (This is very shoddy work, madam)

Moi, holding my nose: Err...problem kya hai? (Asking for it, by asking what the problem seems to be)

Him: Yeh slope something, woh pipe something else, aur phir yeh trap yet another something. (go figure...I don't speak plumber)

Moi: Theek kar sakthe ho? Kitna time lagega? (Get to the point...can you fix it? And how long will it take?!)

Him: Teen - chaar din (3-4 days...subliminal translation to a week, 10 days...!)

Some days later, triumphant yell from the barely recognizable bathroom. I ran up the stairs hoping it meant things are just about fixed. (Yeah right. See that chap waving cheerfully? That's Murphy)

Him: Problem pipe ka nahin tha, shower ka tha! (the problem was not the pipes, but your shower unit).

Moi: Theek kar sakthe ho? Kitna time lagega? (Get to the point...can you fix it? And how long will it take?!)

Him: Teen - chaar din (3-4 days...Yeesh!)

Later that day, grinning plumber and minions get ready to leave the apartment.

Him: Madam, humne something kiya, phir woh kiya, ab kal aake yeh karenge (more plumber-speak)

Moi: Tho, kab ready hoga? (So, when can I move back into my room??!! )

Him: Teen - chaara din :o)

I gave up. I am now resigned to sleeping in the living room, while the bathtub and flush tank occupy place of pride in what used to be our bedroom. Someday, thing shall be as they were meant to be. Someday.

Poofs

It's funny how some people think they can get away with anything. In my book, you can only throw around as much weight as your are willing to pull. However, delusions often run deeper than intelligence ever did. Which same means I am often surrounded by feather-poofs under the gross misconception that one of them is current heavy-weight champion of the world. That went out with Rocky Balboa!

Yet, feather-poofs, the world over, strut and stride and splutter and titter without really realizing why they are so easily blown away. The catch is in knowing the difference between the poofer, and the true punter. Take on the wrong one, and....

Occurs to me that this train of thought left the station, apparently, well before I got on. So, shall stop and hope to flag the next one!