Life is strange. It has its own ways of teaching us lessons and a nondescript event may end up influencing you for a lifetime. Here’s what happened.
Maintenance staff of residential societies have this strange habit of informing you about a planned water outage one month in advance so that an overwhelming majority of residents fail to plan for the imminent unavailability on the D-Day. They also put up notices on overcrowded notice boards where one invariably fails to take notice of one of those seventeen notices. I missed one on a Saturday.
A morning cup of tea (in my case two), a leisurely reading of the newspaper and a detailed planning for the week ahead constitute a regular Sunday morning as I ready to embark upon the new week. As I held my toothbrush to soak, to my disbelief, the tap that had flowed bountifully just minutes ago went whistling dry. A call to maintenance guys was a disappointment as they claimed to have informed us about this stoppage 3 months ago. I was left ‘low and dry’.
Knack for contingency planning
Wives have a knack for contingency planning and my wife has a habit of keeping a bucketful in the washroom. So, this was the equation, a bucket of water and the two of us to brush, shave (only me) and shower. I have been a great proponent of frugality and have rigorously refrained from excessive consumption.
But this was an unprecedented challenge as I brushed my teeth with just half a mugful saving the other half for an extremely measured shave. Surprisingly, I found the gentle pointed trickle of water more effective in rinsing the brush and blade than the torrents from the tap. Then came the big one, the bath.
In the normal course, cool splashes from hand-held showers shake off sleepiness and have the effect of a prickly massage. A hesitant dribble from an overhead mug is a different experience. You must get the ‘bang for the buck’ for every drop and soap yourself with a master-painter’s precision. Every spoonful counts and one must wet, soap and de-soap clinically. I was thrilled to see that my surgical usage had left enough water for my wife to work with and both of us reached our respective offices without any noticeable difference.
Normal moist feel
Next morning, I ventured into the washroom with a weird trepidation and was ‘flooded’ with relief to see the tap-flow return. The surroundings had their normal moist feel about them. But a strange faint guilt held me back and I was less enthusiastic about enjoying the daily abundance.
I used only a mugful to brush and was pleasantly surprised to find that my water thrift was not such an inconvenience. A cautious shave and bath from a bucket, as against a habitual hand shower, were not such strains at all. I walked out all clean and gleam with a strange sense of achievement.
The world is water stressed and in the Middle East, particularly, the process of purification of water to human safety standards is laborious and expensive. Worldwide, nearly 2.4 billion fellow humans live under water stress as the rate of water usage grows at twice the rate of population growth. One in three of us do not have access to safe drinking water. These figures are not just sobering but scary.
My own routine has changed, probably for life. I have adopted a water economy model on all weekdays though I must admit, I do indulge in a lavish hand shower on holidays. Brush and shave under a flowing wasteful tap are things of past and we have also reduced the frequency of use of washing machine.
Deep down I do know that this counts for very little, if at all, but Mother Teresa’s words give me great comfort. When asked what she was doing was not even a drop in the ocean, so why did she bother?
‘I know it is only half a drop in the ocean, but the ocean will be half a drop less if I did not do this’ she replied.
Dr Rakesh Maggon is a specialist ophthalmologist with an interest in literature
