Novels2Search

1.46

I stood still in the shower for a few minutes. I don’t move. My eyes are closed. I focus on the water falling on my body and the sensation it creates. It is soothing me. At the same time, my mind is flying through strong turbulence. Emotions are welling up once again. It seems everywhere I go, everything I interact with here will lead to this. Everything has her presence. I think I am experiencing a similar feeling she would have gone through when I was away for work for weeks. I knew I couldn’t comprehend it because I wasn’t in the same situation. Now I am. It is haunting.

It suddenly dawns on me the water might run out if I waste it. I turn off the tap. The water supply comes from the municipality. It is stored in a huge underground tank after which it is pumped up into the overhead tanks. I don't know exactly when they do this. I have heard the pumps running at some times and the sound of the water overflowing from the tanks. I don't know if mine was filled or not. I will have to check it. I will do it in the morning.

I take the soap and quickly apply it to my body. I take some shampoo and lather up my hair. I massage it for a while and let it be. In the bucket below the shower, some water has accumulated. I scoop it up with the mug and use it to wash my body. I switch to the shower to rinse off the shampoo. I don't waste much time on it. I try to be as efficient as I can. I am done with the bath. I take the turkey towel and dry myself. I put on my boxer and open the door. I dump the used boxer into the laundry bag. It reminds me the washing machine will not work. I will have to wash them myself. I ruminate on whether I should wash them now. It can wait. I get out of the bathroom.

The water issue is something that has caught my attention. It has to be addressed. I skip wearing my tee. It is hot. I am sure I will be sweaty in an hour's time. I dry my hair once again, put away the towel and go into the hall. I walk to the study desk and take out a paper, in case I have to write down something.

The blackout and the fact that power is not going to return have really brought in a dicey situation. Let us consider the case of water. Since no pumps will run, the existing water supply in the overhead tanks is all that there is. Near the first crash site, there is a huge tank. It belongs to the water authority. It feeds the water to its surroundings. Whatever water is left in it is all that there is. I think the municipality line that brings water to my home is coming from this tank.

Considering my home, I should look at how much water is left in the overhead tank. They are placed on the roof above the staircase. It is nearly eight feet higher than the open terrace. There is a ladder leading to it. I haven't climbed it. All six residents have been allotted their own individual tanks. As such, I won’t be able to draw out the water from the rest of them without making some modifications to the pipeline. I know basic plumbing but that is not a solution. If I can get my hands on a small portable pump, I might be able to empty them one at a time to mine. Once again it will require electricity. I need to get a portable Genset. It is the one essential thing that will help me get by if this ordeal continues.

There is another solution to this. I will have to check out how much water is there in the underground tank. It lies in the pillared section of the building. The structure of our apartment is built on top of a pillared foundation as the land is uneven. It is actually on the slope of a tiny hillock. The owner parks his cars in the vacant area. I have seen the large white tank jut out from the ground in a corner. Accessing it would be easy. I think there will be water running through the municipality line. It will only stop when the water in the large overhead tank runs out. Now if this is all good, I need to provide power to the pump to fill my tank. Once again I will be needing a Genset for it.

I try to rack my brain into remembering a shop I might have across selling such equipment during all the journeys I have done in the past year. The images that come are from a couple of similar shops in my hometown. Towards the town's outer end, a couple of shops cater to farming needs. They sell Genset, pumps, motors, cutters, etc. There is one shop that only sells products of a Swedish brand. It is this image that comes to my head.

The water situation can be tackled. That's good. I am thinking in a much more logical and rational manner. In these few minutes, I have kept my emotions at bay. They haven't overwhelmed me. I was able to think and function properly. I need to be in this state more often.

Suppose there isn’t much water left in the underground tank and the main storage tank in Pongumoodu. I will have to resort to finding out some other means of getting water. There isn’t a well on this property. But there are wells in the adjacent ones. I can pump out the water from there. This should be everlasting since my consumption isn’t much. I am sure that a full tank can run for three or four days. I will use it to cook, wash the dishes and clothes and take a bath. There is no other need for water. I can delay the washing of clothes if needed. There are plenty of tees and pants in the cupboard.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Ultimately I need to find myself a power source. Preferably a lightweight one that can be easily transported. I will get the fuel for it from the petrol bunks. They should have enough fuel to support me for a very long time. I will have to arrange a couple of jerkins to store them. The hardware store is also a must-visit.

As I was thinking of all this, it slowly dawned upon me that the petrol bunks will not work without power. The dispensing machines need the power to pump out the fuel. The fuel is stored in underground tanks. This got me worried for a second. But then I realized they must be having a backup power source, a mini generator of sorts that would power their establishment. I have seen it near the office. I think I will be able to get them running without many hassles. They should be equipped with an easy start and stop mechanism. In one of the bunks, I had seen the same mini DG that was used at my workplace. I haven't switched one on, but I know how to do it. I hope the ones here are similar to it.

If all goes well, I will fire up the DG and fill up as many jerkins with fuel as I can. These bigger generators run on diesel. I don't know what kind of fuel the smaller Genset will run on. If they run on petrol, I need to keep aside a jerkin of diesel to feed the DG. It should have some reserve diesel for now. But let me not be complacent. I need to take precautions and not slip on trivial details. Also, I need to note down all these things for reference. This piece of white paper will not do. I look at the table. I see a dairy I had gifted her at the start of the new year. I pick it up and open it.

‘Let your thoughts and emotions find a place in these bound yet boundless papers. Love. Yours truly.’

I had written this. It reminded me of her smile as she opened it and read it out loud. I flip to the next page. She hasn’t written anything in it. I wonder if I should use it or not. This is meant to be her, a place where she can write down whatever she wants to. I find myself in a dilemma. Will she like it if I wrote in it? I will be giving it back to her when she is back with me. It will be a testament to how my days were spent trying to survive and make sense of this phenomenon and bring her back. She wouldn’t mind that. Yes! She would be okay with it. I decide to use it as my journal from here onwards. The piece of paper that was used to note down all my observations in the afternoon is lying on the table. I fold it in half and put it into the journal.

I bought this journal along with an ink pen and some stickers for her as a New Years' gift. I fixed this after a long deliberation on what would be the best gift for a new beginning. It should be something that will motivate her to take a step in a new direction. It should last for some time, not finish off in a day as in the case of chocolates or sweets.

She can write. She does write. Initially, when we started to get to know each other, I was posted in a place without stable connectivity. It was very erratic. My network hardly gave me a stable internet connection. A week into my posting the telecom company came and did something to the only tower on the premises as a part of their upgradation plan. The result was the only little network available was gone. It was very frustrating. On the site, I had a very slow internet connection that was provided by the company. Our main form of correspondence switched to mail. We chatted through long emails. We exchanged more than two emails a day. Some would be long and exploring, some short and sweet. She actively took part in it.

Later on, I was posted to a place with a stable internet connection. We used WhatsApp to communicate. But we still wrote emails to each other. I still do that from time to time. It is not going to stop. It is something we do. Letters brought us together and they will keep us going strong.

She would write in Malayalam on a piece of paper and send it to me as a picture. All my emails are in English. Seeing one in Malayalam brightens my mood and spirit. I would take my own sweet time to read and soak it. I love it and always tell her to keep writing to me in Malayalam, or English, however, she likes. She writes only when she is in the mood. That is how it should be. You should write when you feel like writing, especially when it is for someone else. Never write for the sake of writing. There will be no life in it, no joy. Thus, when her letter drops in I am excited to read it. I read it multiple times just to relive it. It is a special feeling. She knows this.

This was a major reason that prompted me to buy this diary for her. Let it be a place where she expresses all that she wants to freely. Let her emotions flow into it along with her dreams and wishes, her joys and sorrows, her ups and down, her ifs and but, her laughter and tears. Let it be where they accumulate safely. Let it be her trove of memories that can be sifted through in the future, reliving them once again with a slight smile.

The stickers, well I felt them to be cute. She can use them to maybe decorate the insides of it. I don't know if she will use it. I also bought a couple of washi tapes. It is up to her to use it or not. And now I find myself with the diary in my hand, ready to note down my journey in it. It will be plain and simple, just like me. She is the colorful one. Let her portion remain bright and cheerful.