Electricity, rain, and all that

So here I am, sitting peacefully on a Sunday afternoon, bothering no one, idly flipping television channels on my way to glory. With Housefull 2, Jab Tak Hai Jaan and Mohabbatein playing on different channels, I was almost leaping with excitement at having to hook on to till the Champions Trophy match got underway.

But then, it started raining. Throughout the history of mankind, from the days of yore, even before AK Hangal was born, rain has always been synonymous to coffee.

A steaming mug of coffee in hand. Shah Rukh Khan being wooed by a guitar-playing Katrina Kaif on a busy London street, running to save Anushka Sharma from stepping on a land-mine, and singing some sort of Punjabi song while throwing stones on a river.

Can life get better than this? I approached the electric kettle that has been synonymous to my life over the past few days.

The telltale click (or tich, or whick, or pip, or tibh, or whatever you call the sound) happened.

Over the years Delhi has been conquered,  plundered, rebuilt, and goodness-knows-what more often than all the other metros put together. The city that runs on huge houses, suave cars, lethal guns, rajma and pneer,  and corruption, has always succumbed to one, and exactly one aspect of life over centuries.

Power.

Obviously, with great power comes great power-cuts.

Which meant no Jab Tak Hai Jaan. Worse, no Champion's Trophy. Worst, NO COFFEE.

I waited. And waited. And waited. And called the caretaker of the apartment complex.

Note: My Hindi, as my acquaintances are aware of, is exactly not what you call classical. However, I do manage to communicate successfully with the locals here, so I guess it's passable. I will, for the benefits of mankind, narrate the conversation in English.

Abhishek: There is no power.

Caretaker: I know.

Abhishek: You do? Will you please tell me why? (I didn't really use the word 'please'; this is just a false image of mine that I'm putting up for my readers)

Caretaker: Yes. They have disconnected the line.

Abhishek: Who is this 'they'?

Caretaker: The Electric Supply Office (or someone equally powerful; NCR is all about power)

Abhishek: Why?

Caretaker: Because it's raining.

Abhishek: So what?

Caretaker: Don't you get it? It's raining!

Abhishek: I know it's raining, so what?

Caretaker (exasperated): How can you have an electricity connection when it's raining? What if the transformers burst? What if there is a fire? What if someone dies? Will you take responsibility?

Abhishek: Er...

Caretaker: They will fix the line when the rain ceases.

Abhishek: What if it doesn't?

Caretaker: Then you'll have to wait. Everyone is aware of this. You're surprised because you're new here.

I guess I really have missed something when I was forming a basic idea regarding the facilities a large city should provide, especially in 2013. Especially if it's a national capital.

Gone are the days when I had been craving for rain. Give me back those dry Sun-baked days when the power bars on my cellphone and laptop were perpetually on the maximum-mark.

Take away this rain. Give me back the electricity. Go away, Nature. Give me back my Technology.

This is Abhishek Mukherjee signing off here, with the inverter providing a back-up for only a light and a fan. I will have lunch, but my laptop and cellphone batteries are dying out, and there is only so much back-up that an inverter can provide.

If you do not hear from me over a long period of time you probably know the reason. Time is running out. I guess I will just manage to finish this blog post and let you know. And then look for a candle in the incessant rain, making my way through random buffaloes in an NCR alley on a Sunday.

Will someone send me a mug of coffee? Please?