R2Iyyo: Bin Gal U Ruined

And again, the Internet is not something that you just dump something on. It’s not a big truck. It’s a series of tubes. And if you don’t understand, those tubes can be filled and if they are filled, when you put your message in, it gets in line and it’s going to be delayed by anyone that puts into that tube enormous amounts of material, enormous amounts of material.

Ted Stevens was prescient. Only those who have been deprived of the Internets for a week can appreciate how impossible life is without this intravenous drip of information. I can live without dining tables, televisions, microwaves, sofas and even my wife and kids. But give me Wi(red)Fi or give me death. The whole process of constructing the web at home is exactly like traversing a series of tubes. Never before have I had to call person after person, each claiming allegiance to AirTel, in order to (a) determine if the neighbourhood had a valid connection, (b) arrange a seemingly clandestine appointment to sign up for a plan AND ensure that another appointment would kinda-sorta be made by hurried, muffled telephone calls in the near future, (c) coordinate with technicians to finally secure the connection and forcing oneself to maintain dignity after it was established instead of breaking out into song and chasing them around trees laced with canine pee. So there you have it, endless tubes with an enormous amount of material stuffed into them separate man from beast. Ted Stevens, a posthumous Muad’Dib. The point is basically this: Stewart/Colbert have re-entered my life and the world looks like Meg Ryan’s Sleepless-in-Seattle face once again.

Which brings me to the cause of many a sleepless night in my own recent past. Even before shifting to Blore, I had nightmares about searching for apartments in this totally strange place. Boston and Boulder weren’t even in the same league, since I spent a few hours in each, saw 4 flats, settled on one and jetted out in style the next morning. Case closed. The same task grew more daunting every day in Blore what with rental opportunities petering out in the middle of the month and owners having strange fetishes about not leasing to bachelors. That was the first question that both brokers and owners fired my way: Sir, are you a family man or are you single? Singleness spells doom. Apparently, bachelors are stereotyped as party animals and are strangely addicted to having their friends move in with them after signing the lease. I was targeting this joint called AECS Layout, since it was ideally placed in terms of access to work and shopping facilities. However, it was also filled with filled apartments and landlords who had to be convinced and cajoled that this bachelor was not scum, did not drink/smoke, was a veggie, would have his mother visit him frequently and would not populate his rooms with terror babies just waiting to take over the country in the immediate future, give or take 25 years. The most controversial question was this: Do you plan on getting married soon? The cheesiest answer was this: I just started my job and would like to devote my life to it before making such [ill-fated] decisions. But one thing is for sure: I would have been lost without a broker, and it’s definitely recommended to play the field with them too. Committing to one might mean missing out on other juicy bites, since they seem to have location-specific intel. Plus, they know their way around the gullies and mohallas a hell of a lot better than newbies.

No one wants a completely empty apartment. Space has to be occupied by the flotsam of modern life, which ultimately has to be ordered off the shelf from the nearest mall. This leads to logistical issues of the type mentioned in the beginning and the fact that the world sees strange men with large packages entering the flat at odd hours, performing arcane services and leaving with slightly bulging wallets. After a week of such questionable activities, only a measly gas cylinder is required to complete me kitchen, Matey. Fortunately, the owner – old gentleman who lives above and therefore has a ring-side view of the occurrences below – has accepted my choice of lifestyle for now and will hopefully not spring a bridal exhibition on someone who is currently satiated with structures of all shapes, sizes, desired qualities and prices.

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4 Responses to “R2Iyyo: Bin Gal U Ruined”

  1. You live close to your landlord? Bad choice, my bro did that in Indiranagar a couple of years ago – the guy hounded him for every little ‘lapse’.

    B’lore is such a nosy little place. My dad recalls horror stories of the time he moved there 33 years ago, also from the US (incidentally also from Boston), and every landlord wanted to know if he had a “scooter”. He didn’t, and since it was the ultimate status symbol, most thought he would be too poor to pay the rent. 🙂 And he was a bachelor that smoked, Deva Deva!

    • Glorfindel Says:

      Yesterday’s scooter is today’s wife. Each one ensures mobility – up or down. And thanks for making it sound like another Sathya is bound to be on the way due to history’s cyclical nature.

  2. How do you see TDS? Did you manage to hack your way to hulu? Please do all that homework and keep in 3 months time. Tyvm.

  3. Bangalore Apartments 🙂 Hope now its settled

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