Friday, December 17, 2004
A matter of privacy at the sink
I’m doing something of a tour of Pune hotels. This is my third in just a week here. The first place, the company paid for initially, but it cost more than I was willing to pay for myself. The second was nice, but they kicked me out after three days because someone else had booked the whole place in advance. The third has been… well… interesting.
Because I’m expecting to move in with some colleagues in a few days, I opted to take the cheapest room available, one sharing a bathroom with other rooms on the floor. Both bathroom and and toilet are right next to my door, so it didn’t seem much of an inconvenience. I was wrong. The next morning, I woke to the gaggle of little kids. Kids in uniform, carrying school bags, filing into the adjacent room, a room with no beds but several desks and benches. A school embedded in a lodge? Now that was most curious. From the sound of it, their first period was a Physics class in Marathi.
But worse. It turns out that the only sink on the floor is not in the bathroom but in the corridor, so I stand there brushing my teeth while kids walk past, bang on the door, are refused entry for being late, and then can’t seem to decide whether to repent or rejoice. A youth walks past as I’m putting on my contact lenses, freezes, positions himself three feet behind, and stares into my mirror. He doesn’t budge when I stare back at him, so I return to washing the lens. His friends call from down the corridor. He flicks a glance and back, reluctant to leave before the show is over.
A repeat show this morning. The kids say their room is host to “Subodh Classes.” I attempt to take a picture of the room and one kid finds himself in my frame, and then he wants to show it to all his friends. They collect at my door even as I put away the camera. The fellow hovering outside the bathroom asks if I’m also a bank trainee. Then he discovers my electric toothbrush and asks “kai yeh?” (what’s this?) His curiosity stirred, he stares carefully as I apply paste and insert brush in mouth, asks if it is a “machine,” and continues staring for several minutes, from barely two feet away. I didn’t dare demonstrate my electric razor after that.
As of this evening, I’m now on a different floor with a bathroom all to myself. Sorry, but no pictures worth showing. I don’t have a lens wideangle enough for such compressed spaces.
Because I’m expecting to move in with some colleagues in a few days, I opted to take the cheapest room available, one sharing a bathroom with other rooms on the floor. Both bathroom and and toilet are right next to my door, so it didn’t seem much of an inconvenience. I was wrong. The next morning, I woke to the gaggle of little kids. Kids in uniform, carrying school bags, filing into the adjacent room, a room with no beds but several desks and benches. A school embedded in a lodge? Now that was most curious. From the sound of it, their first period was a Physics class in Marathi.
But worse. It turns out that the only sink on the floor is not in the bathroom but in the corridor, so I stand there brushing my teeth while kids walk past, bang on the door, are refused entry for being late, and then can’t seem to decide whether to repent or rejoice. A youth walks past as I’m putting on my contact lenses, freezes, positions himself three feet behind, and stares into my mirror. He doesn’t budge when I stare back at him, so I return to washing the lens. His friends call from down the corridor. He flicks a glance and back, reluctant to leave before the show is over.
A repeat show this morning. The kids say their room is host to “Subodh Classes.” I attempt to take a picture of the room and one kid finds himself in my frame, and then he wants to show it to all his friends. They collect at my door even as I put away the camera. The fellow hovering outside the bathroom asks if I’m also a bank trainee. Then he discovers my electric toothbrush and asks “kai yeh?” (what’s this?) His curiosity stirred, he stares carefully as I apply paste and insert brush in mouth, asks if it is a “machine,” and continues staring for several minutes, from barely two feet away. I didn’t dare demonstrate my electric razor after that.
As of this evening, I’m now on a different floor with a bathroom all to myself. Sorry, but no pictures worth showing. I don’t have a lens wideangle enough for such compressed spaces.
brainz — Dec 17, 2004 1:32:45 AM — # ↩
deepsan — Dec 17, 2004 9:26:42 AM — # ↩
ciodream — Dec 17, 2004 9:38:11 AM — # ↩
Have a great time in Pune, Kiran!
Hope you'll experience better things of/in Pune :-)
Kiran Jonnalagadda — Dec 17, 2004 10:34:05 AM — # ↩
I like Pune so far. It's so very much like Bangalore was ten years ago, before the boom started. My morning commute is only six minutes long! How cool is that?
eddd — Dec 17, 2004 12:05:54 PM — # ↩
better : 2.5 minutes :)
ciodream — Dec 17, 2004 1:06:01 PM — # ↩
Six minutes of commute is what Pune offers to 'lucky few'!
Whether I like it or not, Pune is growing for worse - just like B'lore. Hope it retains some of its better part - just the way B'lore has managed to!
drkishoremurthy — Dec 17, 2004 11:01:19 AM — # ↩
school in a lodge ... boy! how innovative can people get!!!!
beerbal — Dec 17, 2004 11:29:22 AM — # ↩
Kiran Jonnalagadda — Dec 17, 2004 1:46:59 PM — # ↩
matsujun — Dec 17, 2004 1:00:15 PM — # ↩
Hello!! My name is Matsujun. I'm from japan. I saw some pictures taken by you. Although Indiaｎ fire works are beautiful, Japanese fire works are very beutiful too. Have you ever been to Japan? I have never been to India, but I'd like to go there.
matsujun — Dec 17, 2004 1:00:15 PM — # ↩
Hello!! My name is Matsujun. I'm from japan. I saw some pictures taken by you. Although Indiaｎ fire works are beautiful, Japanese fire works are very beutiful too. Have you ever been to Japan? I have never been to India, but I'd like to go there.
Kiran Jonnalagadda — Dec 17, 2004 1:51:21 PM — # ↩
Hi,
I've never been to Japan, but I'd like to visit sometime. Need an excuse. :-)
urmila — Dec 17, 2004 2:46:07 PM — # ↩
go away
Kiran Jonnalagadda — Dec 17, 2004 2:56:54 PM — # ↩
Come along...
urmila — Dec 17, 2004 3:00:36 PM — # ↩
and if i remember well...(which i most certainly do..!!)...i had frozen that comment o mine!!!
Kiran Jonnalagadda — Dec 17, 2004 3:03:59 PM — # ↩
Heh heh.
gnurpreet — Dec 19, 2004 9:04:02 PM — # ↩
this was a good one...lol
matsujun — Jan 7, 2005 12:03:00 PM — # ↩
A Happy New Year!! Last year a"TSUNAMI" and an" EARTHQUAKE"happened in Sri Lanka and so on. Is the place where you live safe? I worry about that. How did you spend on a happy new day?
Kiran Jonnalagadda — Jan 7, 2005 12:06:19 PM — # ↩
We're all fine here. No one affected.
matsujun — Jan 14, 2005 12:18:58 PM — # ↩
I'm happy to read the message. More 5 millions Japanese people fell victim . This "tsunami" is often reported by media in Japan. By the way, curry and rice is very popular, especially among children. Curry and rice is one of the foods children like the best. In your country, is there popular Japanese food?
Kiran Jonnalagadda — Jan 14, 2005 4:15:19 PM — # ↩
I've never come across sushi in India, and that's the only Japanese food I'm aware of. I guess that means Japanese food is not popular in India.
irq2 — Dec 17, 2004 5:57:56 PM — # ↩
When did you switch back to contacts?
Kiran Jonnalagadda — Dec 17, 2004 8:01:45 PM — # ↩