First at the homestay in Coorg. I ask for hot water as a perfect city bred asshole and also because the temperate was really low. Half an hour later Mr. Fixit shows up. He works in the fields, there is a cook and there is a caretaker. All three are from Bengal. Like Indian and Pakistanis in England, we became friends. He shows me how to heat water.
Next day morning, we had to drive to Bangalore and to catch the flight back. So, I was ready at 7. A family had moved in last evening and we had also become friends, exchanged numbers etc. Dude had no clue how to heat water and all the bongs had vanished like midnight ghosts at morning.
So, I carried the logs, found the kerosene bottle nearby and set about to light it up, which I did. In my eagerness, I may have titled the kerosene bottle at a slightly higher obtuse angle. The result was hot water, happy new friend and hairless hands and carelessly trimmed eyebrows.
I wonder how all those sayings about playing with fire never talk about burnt hair!
