Bed Bugs - The Ultimate Solution

When I first realized that bed bugs exist, I was scared. I didn’t know how to deal with them. I was not sure what risks they posed and what I had to do to get rid of them. I didn’t even know how to identify a bed bug until I researched online. Every time I detected a bed bug, I would kill it without mercy and dispose of the body. I would search for more of them in the vicinity and kill them all. I would hope that I killed them all, only knowing deep inside that it is the tip of the iceberg. I used to live in sort of discomfort, knowing that I am not alone on my bed. Slowly, I understood that I needed to be more systematic.

I started the learning process. I browsed through to see what problems they posed to my health and the solutions. It turns out the main problem is nuisance if you are sensitive to the bite. I am not sensitive to any shit, so I was somewhat comforted but still wanted to get rid of them. What if I become sensitive later? As it turns out there are not many ultimate solutions to the problem without setting your house on fire. Undeterred, I cleaned my whole place and used insecticides. I bought a new bed and washed all my sheets for the first time ever. I isolated the bed from the floor by covering the legs with water filled bowls. It was a complete job and it indeed seemed to work, at first.

Now I am a kind of man who wants to get things done once and for all. Maintenance is not my thing. So when I applied the whole bed bugs solution, I wasn’t anticipating that they would return again. I simply assumed that they ceased to exist. But weeks went by and they are back again. More in numbers, only to find me too lazy to get off my ass and clean again. I knew it cannot go on forever, I had to do something which would end the war.

This time I came up with a better solution. The ultimate solution. One that will never fail.

First, to find the root of the problem, I had to dig deep. Not into some holes on sides of doors, but into my mind. I introspected myself and my insecurities towards the creatures. I understood that the problem is in my mind rather than on the bed. No one is an enemy if you don’t want to fight them. I changed my attitude towards bed bugs. I realized that all they want is to live. And if it involves sucking some human blood, they are not to be blamed, it is in their nature. So I accepted them thus. I let them co-exist on my bed. They do, probably in thousands. But I don’t feel them anymore, nor are they annoying. If my giving up a small amount of my blood can help feed so many lives, it should probably add some karma to my souls account, I reckon. Though I don’t give a fuck about the karma stuff, it helps with the reasoning, So I let it stay. When I find a bed bug these days (or a dozen), I don’t kill it, I remember that it is part of the food chain. It is just incidental that it is higher on the chain than I am. In addition, knowing that I am not the king of the jungle keeps me humble.

Die, please.

My Grandmother (Father’s mother) lived a life in which she will be remembered fondly for her reproductive functions. She will be remembered regretfully for almost anything else – if she is remembered at all. Even the reproduction was overdone. She produced six children, all of whom are burdens to earth (maybe an exception is my Dad, who is the most sensible of the lot, which is saying something about the lot). Let me not start off on my dad now, my grandmother retired from doing part-time work at about the age of 35-40 when she had a source of income in form of rents from her house and she had four daughters-in-law from four sons. Her most productive period was when she gave these in-laws the gift of hatred. She hated them so much and tortured them in so many ways that the in-laws (incl. my mom) made hating her back the purpose of their lives. After my grandfather died 12-16 years back (I don’t remember) she made some dumb decisions and started living on the mercy of the people who hated her (in-laws). She lived like that all these years. She is still living.

The reason I hate her is, she is a hindrance, and she is a bag of emotional and sentimental stupidity, gathered throughout her TV serial kind of life. She expects pity from people who hate her - like my mom, people who don’t care - like me and people who just want her dead so they can forget that she existed - like everyone. The tragedy is, she gets it. She sits on a sofa, and asks stupid--meaningless-redundant-old people like questions when I pass her by (Did you come home? Did you eat?). Thing is, she isn’t concerned whether I eat or die, it is just that she has nothing else to do the whole day. What ever comes out of her mouth is utterly pointless anyways, but her tone makes it worse. I lost my sense for pity long time back but I have to give her some response, yes? This just kills me. I can’t give stupid responses to stupid questions by stupid people. To solve this, I started acting like there is empty space on that sofa. It works but I can only act, right? I still have to bear the thought that she is there, with her stupid face and stupid thoughts. And that my mom will have to nurse her for half a month, every two months. My mom, who hates her with all the energy she can conjure, has to get sick, serving her, that’s torture. Every time our turn of half a month is over, I just hope that she will be dead in the next one and a half months so that I’ll not be required to look at her again.

My grandmother should have died long back. She claims she wants to die, but never does anything towards that direction. She almost died two months back but survived (which wasn’t so bad because it was a busy time for me and taking a leave for the celebrations would have disturbed my schedule). She somehow carries on living, like that is the achievement she will be remembered for – living on people for so long that it got to their nerves and they all started hating each other.

No, I don’t have a problem with the oldies, they should be looked after and all. I am going to be old one day and my parents too. But, ‘BUT’ they should have earned it when they had the chance. I know my parents earned it and so will I. People can’t just expect love and respect just because they are older. Being older doesn’t translate to wiser automatically.

Of Marwadi Engagements and Brahmin Marriages

If you are an unsuspecting guest, you will be left a bit shaken by the conventions and traditions of Marwadis’ like I was shaken when I attended a Marwadi friends’ engagement just a couple of days back. There are so many things you can crack jokes on that you won’t even mind all the discomforts. And you will not be bored by looking at the expressionless Marwadi faces either. Because that amuses, too.

The concept of a Marwadi engagement is divided into two halves. Like a movie or a cricket match or something else with two equal divisions. The first half involves formalities involving the bride done by bridegrooms’ relatives in specific absence of the bridegroom. The second half is vice-versa. I am not sure whether it is a rule to decorate the bride first and go on to the groom in the second part or the sequence is decided in a coin toss. That wouldn’t surprise me.

It is a custom in India that the marrying couple take blessings of each and every elder who comes onto their path, by touching their foot/toes in traditional India style. The emphasis on this practice is huge in western states. The Marwadi customs, maybe to make it more lucrative for the young ones, have a mandate that every time this toe-touching blessing-taking happens, the elder should give some cash to the young one. And Marwadis being Marwadis give amounts starting from Rs 20 up to a maximum of Rs 100. In some cases, Rs 10 also. In this particular case, the collection of the groom crossed an amount of Rs 1500 from some 100 donors.

The most interesting, actually scary, part of a traditional Marwadi function is the Lunch. God knows how they eat that food but that is the least of concerns. I was accompanied by another Telugu guy and we were called up to eat. We were given a place on floor to sit. We sat, facing each other. Then they kept a plate in between us, served some Puri s and Curries and stuff and asked us to eat. Both of us. In one plate. In fact, people were eating in groups of four and five from one plate. I and my friend ate whatever Puri and curries we could, left out some dishes we could not identify as suitable for human consumption and got up lest anyone would force us to eat rice. I mean, how can two friends meeting after long time mix rice with curries and eat from that single plate without being embarrassed for life about it? Just the thought gave us the creeps.

Anyways, we thought it was a great system to follow for our Marwadi friend when he throws a marriage reception in some banquet hall. Banquet halls charge on basis on number of plates used and these guys use one place for half a dozen people. That’s a Marwadi-level saving of 80% on expenses! Let’s not think about the plight of that banquet hall owner.

I’ve also had the honor of going to a marriage I was not specifically invited to, too, but I am not the bragging kind.

PS: It’s my experience that Marwadi people are as kind hearted as it gets. Also they are very straight forward and a bit sensitive. But I cannot let that stop me from spreading these critical matters. Here’s to hoping they are sportive enough, too.

Inefficiency

I believe in efficiency. One should always use every second of one’s time doing something productive. Productive doesn’t mean one has to work or study or listen to philosophy. Far from it. It may just mean doing what you do for recreation or for fun or as a hobby, doesn’t matter.

The crux of what I want to convey is, one should not waste time doing nothing or doing something which, one knows, is of no value. I know I sound odd in the sense that one always keeps doing something and even when one is not doing something, one is technically resting which is included in expression ‘recreation’. But how often I see someone ‘bored’ and ‘busy’. Efficiency comes into picture in these scenarios. Everything is an asset, the time one has, the resources available, one’s energy and knowledge. So, with all these assets at disposal, one doesn’t have any business being bored. One must always have something more than usual to do, albeit optional. Secondly, one mustn’t usually be too busy to do anything which presents itself, if and when one chooses to do it.

All this being my opinion. We know everyone has a right to have their opinions (and inefficiency)

As for me, I use being busy as a tool to avoid someone. Being bored is violation even by my flexible standards.