pass. It would be nice to have a day with nothing planned and nothing to do, for a change.
As I lay down on my bed, I realized that my grand plans of taking the Sunday off depended entirely on whether or not I got a mail or call from one of the entrepreneurs we were working with. Till that happened, though, I would continue to indulge myself with the fantasy that I would indeed have a rare day off from thinking about work.
My phone was right next to me and I picked it up to make sure the alarm was off. The last thing I wanted was for an accidental alarm to spoil my grand plans to sleep in. As I picked it up, I saw a message from Kartik. His spelling was a great indicator of just how wasted he was.
Grate party. Had tots of fun. Congrass, Boss!
T WO
I had been sleeping the dreamless sleep of the contentedly drunk when my eyes snapped open. I had heard something loud, like the pop of a firecracker, only duller. My head ached a bit, and my throat was dry. When I picked up my phone to check the time, the screen was blank and refused to flicker to life though I pressed the button repeatedly. Perhaps I had forgotten to charge it. I cursed whichever idiot had burst a firecracker at this unearthly hour as I checked my watch on the side table.
The time was 03:02.
I lay back down on the bed and then decided that, since I was up, I might as well drink some water. Hydration would do wonders for my parched throat and make the hangover more bearable. I walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, only to see that it was dark inside. The water inside was still cold, so the fridge must have turned off very recently. Figuring a surge had caused it to trip, and that was what had made the noise that woke me up, I walked towards the junction box and turned on the light switch in the living room on the way.
Nothing.
Looked like the mains had tripped. I fetched the small torch I had in the kitchen and went to the junction box. To my surprise, when I flashed the torch at it, I saw that none of the switches had tripped.
That was when I heard all the voices. Why the hell were so many people up and talking at bloody three in the morning?
I began walking to the balcony but stopped short at the sight of something I had never seen before.
The whole of Mumbai, as far as I could see, was dark. It was as if a giant, unseen hand had taken a brush and, in one massive stroke, painted all of the city black. All except for a bright flame in the direction of the airport. Was there a fire somewhere?
I had the night guard’s mobile number saved on my phone, but when I picked it up to make the call, I was reminded that my phone was dead. I walked to the intercom to call him, but there was only static. Looked like the mother of all power failures had hit us. Perhaps it was a transformer or power station on fire somewhere. That might explain the flame.
There was nothing I could do about it at three in the morning, and certainly not when I was still half-drunk and feeling the onset of a massive hangover. I figured that things would be sorted out sooner rather than later, and my fretting about it wouldn’t help. So I finished the bottle of water and went back to bed. It didn’t take a lot for me to blank out the voices and fall back to sleep.
When I woke next, it was due to a shrill noise. On instinct, I grabbed my phone, wondering if I had set an alarm by mistake, but the screen was still dead. My watch told me that the time was 7:15, and after a few seconds I was awake enough to figure that the noise was coming from outside. When I walked around my apartment, I realized that the power was still out and, looking out of the balcony, I saw groups of people huddled around the various housing societies in the area. Someone was blowing a whistle trying to get people in one of the societies opposite mine to stop shouting and pay attention to him. I couldn’t remember the last time electricity had gone for such a long period of time, and it was no wonder
As I lay down on my bed, I realized that my grand plans of taking the Sunday off depended entirely on whether or not I got a mail or call from one of the entrepreneurs we were working with. Till that happened, though, I would continue to indulge myself with the fantasy that I would indeed have a rare day off from thinking about work.
My phone was right next to me and I picked it up to make sure the alarm was off. The last thing I wanted was for an accidental alarm to spoil my grand plans to sleep in. As I picked it up, I saw a message from Kartik. His spelling was a great indicator of just how wasted he was.
Grate party. Had tots of fun. Congrass, Boss!
T WO
I had been sleeping the dreamless sleep of the contentedly drunk when my eyes snapped open. I had heard something loud, like the pop of a firecracker, only duller. My head ached a bit, and my throat was dry. When I picked up my phone to check the time, the screen was blank and refused to flicker to life though I pressed the button repeatedly. Perhaps I had forgotten to charge it. I cursed whichever idiot had burst a firecracker at this unearthly hour as I checked my watch on the side table.
The time was 03:02.
I lay back down on the bed and then decided that, since I was up, I might as well drink some water. Hydration would do wonders for my parched throat and make the hangover more bearable. I walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, only to see that it was dark inside. The water inside was still cold, so the fridge must have turned off very recently. Figuring a surge had caused it to trip, and that was what had made the noise that woke me up, I walked towards the junction box and turned on the light switch in the living room on the way.
Nothing.
Looked like the mains had tripped. I fetched the small torch I had in the kitchen and went to the junction box. To my surprise, when I flashed the torch at it, I saw that none of the switches had tripped.
That was when I heard all the voices. Why the hell were so many people up and talking at bloody three in the morning?
I began walking to the balcony but stopped short at the sight of something I had never seen before.
The whole of Mumbai, as far as I could see, was dark. It was as if a giant, unseen hand had taken a brush and, in one massive stroke, painted all of the city black. All except for a bright flame in the direction of the airport. Was there a fire somewhere?
I had the night guard’s mobile number saved on my phone, but when I picked it up to make the call, I was reminded that my phone was dead. I walked to the intercom to call him, but there was only static. Looked like the mother of all power failures had hit us. Perhaps it was a transformer or power station on fire somewhere. That might explain the flame.
There was nothing I could do about it at three in the morning, and certainly not when I was still half-drunk and feeling the onset of a massive hangover. I figured that things would be sorted out sooner rather than later, and my fretting about it wouldn’t help. So I finished the bottle of water and went back to bed. It didn’t take a lot for me to blank out the voices and fall back to sleep.
When I woke next, it was due to a shrill noise. On instinct, I grabbed my phone, wondering if I had set an alarm by mistake, but the screen was still dead. My watch told me that the time was 7:15, and after a few seconds I was awake enough to figure that the noise was coming from outside. When I walked around my apartment, I realized that the power was still out and, looking out of the balcony, I saw groups of people huddled around the various housing societies in the area. Someone was blowing a whistle trying to get people in one of the societies opposite mine to stop shouting and pay attention to him. I couldn’t remember the last time electricity had gone for such a long period of time, and it was no wonder
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