Milord O' Landlord--The Spit-Fire!
Even the closed bedroom door could not shield the shrill of
the door bell. I woke up and switched on my mobile to check the time. It was
very early. We had been new to the place and the visits of the usual newspaper
vendor or milkman or maid or the laundry guy had not yet been formalized. Who
could it be? I got up and trudged lazily to the door. Felt happy that my wife
was still sleeping peacefully. I closed the bedroom door behind me, and as I
did so the shrill of the door bell caught me squarely. That someone outside had
to be an impatient customer.
I opened the main door and was surprised to find our landlord
right in front. His short and thin figure was upright; his longish face with a
hairline mustache showed unmistakable signs of agitation and his eyes, still
puffy from sleep, were blazing.
“Good morning! ...” I began in the customary way.
He ignored it completely, “This has never ever happened in my
house! How is this possible?”
“What happened...?”
“Just cannot imagine! Preposterous...crazy...!” He paused for
effect shaking his head in all possible directions.
“Hello mister, would you please tell me whatever may have
happened and, which concerns us!” I could not hide my irritation at this
unexpected disturbance at the dawn of the day.
“Okay, see for yourself! Please follow me...”
I did so moving with him to the concrete passage outside
running along the front side of the building. Out through the grilled entrance
he stopped at the centre of passage, looked down at the ground on both sides
angrily. He motioned me to do the same.
Then only I realised the cause of his agitation. There were
two big sprawling red spots both sides of the concrete floor just behind the
main gate. Instantly I identified these as paan
spit—a rush of reddish saliva caused by chewing a heady mix of betel nut, betel
leaf, lime and with or without tobacco. But why was he telling me all this? How
on earth could I be held responsible?
“Oh! Someone has dirtied your compound with paan spit. Such sort of people always
does it on the corridors, on the lifts...”
He cut me short, “As I told you this has never happened at my
house in my memory! You came in few days back, and since then a lot of people
visited this house for the odd jobs and re-dos as you ordered. You see...!”
Yes, I saw it clearly now. As he claimed this had never
happened earlier and so it had to be one of those plumbers, electricians and
other vendors we called in. He continued, “...Please ask them, quiz them...who
must have done this obnoxious thing! Don’t spare them! I’m certain that one of
your people did this!” And now, I found this term of ‘your people’ really obnoxious!
Temper was slowly rising within me which I controlled...rather I had to,
because we were new and this should never turn into a confrontation. As I was
searching for the ideal thing to say the caretaker joined us with a bucket of
water and a broom, to my escape. He looked up ruefully at me, “Finally I have
to do the cleaning up...!” The landlord decided to stay on to supervise.
My wife was up and about when I entered and narrated the
episode. She had a hearty laugh and welcomed the landlord’s zeal for
cleanliness. I agreed. It had been a national campaign to make your
surroundings spick and span. However, I couldn’t agree to the accusing tone in
the landlord’s otherwise righteous agitation.
Over the next few days we did ask our normal visitors with
the expectation that nobody would confess doing it even if s/he did. We also
warned newcomers never to do this type of misdeeds. During this period we also
noticed a significant decline in our visitors. Quite a few of them in fact didn’t
turn up at all for some much needed touch-ups in the jobs they had done
earlier. I was getting concerned knowing well that the family of the landlord
must have been on the job too. One day our temporary maid confirmed my fears. She
confided to my wife that she was quizzed by the landlord’s wife if she or any
of we two had the chewing habit. I decided to have a talk with the landlord.
The agitation was longer in him that day and I was happy to
see that. I came to the point straightaway.
“Look mister. It’s a very good thing that you are so concerned
about cleanliness and we wholeheartedly support this. But we’re pained that you’re
pointing the finger at us. Even if any of us has this habit why should you be
suspicious about us? We’re responsible citizens and we’ll never litter our own
surroundings. You see, the lane outside your gate is a public place and any of
the passers-by could be doing this, out of habit or for mischief. And, it is
not possible for you or us to monitor them throughout the day. So please don’t
scare off our visitors. Few of the jobs are still half-done. You see, harassment
should never be a part of any good thing you must be doing. Hope you
understand!”
If he understood he didn’t show any sign. He only nodded his
head several times uttering some monosyllables. I let it rest at that. If you
rented a place then the landlord was your true boss, and as the saying goes the
boss is always right. And, it was hardly the time to look for a new house.
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