My Landlord And His House

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Landlord claimed he came twice to my attic for monthly rent. He found it locked. He was irritated that even my wife was not present. He was complaining that she should be at home like any other days. He sounded it was mandatory for my wife to be at home all the time. But what I wondered was he seemed prying so much on my wife. I felt a rise of arrogance in me; I managed to stay coolheaded.The idea of offering him a tea dropped instantly.

I told him it had another week for the salary. An illiterate who got the house by virtue of his late wife's inheritance was upset. He did not have the loans to deposit and he said he had to remit the money to banks. Mentioning of banks meant he was an entrepreneur. He was showing off like any other day. He acted rich in front of me when I tried listening to him with fake zest. I had learned about his life and I had learned he was a great liar to the tenants. His never ending story of how he built the house was the cleverest idea he possessed. Actually it was built by his late wife's father. Liar, I thought. I heard it many times and each time he told me I had to listen like hearing for the first time. Bloody fool! Taking my time away, I would think myself. If I chose to tell him I heard it before, he would come up with a vindictive story to throw me out. It was my weakness.

His traditional house had overrun its salvaged time. To him it was a brand new house with all the modern facilities intact. Modern facilities to him meant an extended water closet at ground floor where he stayed. He could not even do internal plumbing and it did not have a flushing cistern. The extension of the toilet had further worsened the aesthetic of the house. The concrete buildings surrounding it must have had bad eye sores. A little stamp from a neighbor building would turn it to rubbles.

The pride of maintaining the traditional house at modern times seemed good but a chicken-hearted landlord had not the slightest idea on investing further. I already made a plan to move out of this attic once I get a decent concrete house. It had been a pain going out to toilet at nights. My arms were fagged from balancing the water buckets. And it should be before my ears went deaf.

Two years back when I did shopping to settle myself I bought an alarm clock. It was meant to wake me up early and get ready to attend the boss. Surprisingly I did not have to use this alarm living in an attic. I had the winged alarm birds that woke me before my gadget clock struck its sound.

At dawn I would hear the zooming and screeching sound of their claws over the CGI sheets. The rattling sound and constant pecking of their beaks would irritate and wake me up. They would fly back after few seconds producing a whooping sound as if I would lay naked to the sky. Once I thought they would blow off the roof forcing me to face the open space.

I would like to sit on European styled closet with plenty of water to flush. I would like to open the faucet in the morning to wash my feet. I would pray my new landlord had studied at least more than me. I would not want to drop an idea to offer him a tea.

When I fulfilled all these I would be woken up by my alarm clock and never worry from being roof less over me.


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