I am going to let you into a clean little secret of mine. I have the unique ability of taking a proper bath in quarter of a bucket of water. This bath comprises of the following steps:
1. Wet myself.
2. Apply soap.
3. Wash the soap off.
4. Play with a little water to end the bath with satisfaction.
As I said, a proper bath.
Now, I am aware that the grapevine about me doesn't remotely suggest that I do anything economically. No, I am woman enough to not look past this. If I need to take a hundred bucks, I will take a hundred and fifty. If I must carry two pairs of clothes, I will carry three. If the journey requires two diapers, I will take four. Be prepared, is always my motto.
To what then, you ask, can we attribute this deviation in character to? In an otherwise undulating landscape, where did this mountain arise? I can see where your curiosity comes from. It is indeed a pertinent question and one which stems from an intellect of the superior nature.
To assuage all your many concerns regarding my general mental well-being, I take you back nine years to the winter of 2005. Fresh out of college, I was embarking upon the great voyage of corporate life. My parents came to settle me into a nice place five minutes from my workplace at Pune. It was a paying guest accommodation in which four of us settled in.
The land lady ran a tight establishment. Must be home by ten, else she'd let the dog loose in the compound. Things of that nature. Harmless really, but effective. We were seldom late.
One of the other things she felt a tad less magnanimous about was water. She'd ration a bucket of hot water each day to each of us. And, like Oliver, we dared not ask for more.
This was all okay on regular days. But, once a week, we needed to wash our hair. It kind of entered the realm of the mandatory. Even this wasn't too much trouble for three of us. The fourth lady though posed a challenge. She had knee length hair and one bucket for her tall self and her locks just wouldn't do. The very thought made us all long for home and unlimited water supply.
In this forlorn state, I came up with a brilliant and communal plan. We each would donate a portion of our allotment to the aggrieved one. Such generosity. Seriously, you need to be born with it. And it worked brilliantly. We learnt a new and useful skill. And, she stopped going all 'Joe from Little Women' on us.
And so, by the end of the two months we spent together, I had perfected the art of making do with just a quarter bucket. Not a drop more. Not a drop less.
