When I say that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed that day, I mean it literally, not as a figure of speech. For some reason (probably indigestion) I woke up feeling groggy, and instead of getting out of bed from the left side, where there is a lot of clear space, I got off from the right, where the space is very limited.
That morning I suffered the illusion that I had kept my bedroom slippers on the right, which I hardly ever do. (I do it once in a blue moon though, when I have to remind myself of something important the next morning.) So, as I was saying, that morning I stepped out on the right side. When the coordinated search of my eyes and feet did not help me find my slippers, I bent to take a better look … and banged my head on the wall! I can vouch from first-hand experience that banging one’s head on the wall is the worst possible way to start the day. Imagine starting the day seeing stars in the daylight!
I went to the bathroom and there was no water in the tap. I kept turning it till its washer, or whatever they call it, snapped. The tap, since it was the tap of my washbasin, was too high up for me to kick; so I kicked the pipe running beneath it instead. Had I known that I could kick so well, I would have taken to football! The pipe came off at the top and quite lost its shape and uprightness and resembled a snake that had been struck by lightning when it had raised its hood.
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I knew the plumber had to be called, but that is a job my dad does better than me, so dropping him a discreet hint, I took off for school, only to discover that they had declared a holiday in honour of India winning the cricket world cup. I returned home and met the plumber who was about to leave after collecting a fat fee from my father.
I thought the best way to spend the rest of the day without angering my dad any more would be to quietly watch the TV, but as soon as I turned the TV on, off went the God-forsaken electricity! I picked up a PG Wodehouse book that I had borrowed from the school library. When I discovered that three and four pages had been tom out by some idiot from the first and second chapters respectively, I refused to do anything more except mope around till late night, when I fell into bed like a sack of potatoes being hurled from the back of a truck. It is not for nothing that I hold that moping around is the most tiresome activity devised by man!