The Bathville Horror

I stood there. Staring at it. It was dim inside, though there was a bulb. I was not too sure whether it was the clouds outside, or the fear in my head. I tried to distract myself, by thinking about the schedule I had for the day, but my eyes were rooted to that thing…lying on the floor…so harmless, so inanimate, and yet so dangerous…I knew I’ve been there before…so many times, I walked in, knowing full well, that I would come out stronger, warmer….but this was different…I was doing this everyday, and it only deepened my fear of it….the helplessness before it was agonising…painful..cold and shivering…

And then I felt it…that all too familiar sinking feeling rushed into my brains….I could sense my heart pumping blood, the veins throbbing in my head, the bare feet on the wet floor shuffling forcing me to turn back and run out..I was shivering..not because of the cold…but fear…ever felt what it is like to see death right in the eyes, and yet knowing full well that you have no way out of this?…that you would have a slow painful death?….

But the need to be there, overpowered the impulse of running out….I knew, if I did that, I would never be able to forgive myself…I was a changed man, and had vowed, that I would erase all those days from the past…the humiliation, the ridicule….NO!…I had decided..come what may, I shall do this..every day…and if that means spending those 10 minutes with death, I would…

I clenched my fists, grit my teeth, and tried not to think much….I kept my eyes rooted at the spot…for one brief moment, all the bygone days flashed by….as they say, before you die, you see your entire life in a flash of momentary brilliance…all those days passed by, when I stood in the same situation but in different places..

I closed my eyes for a few moments….tried to think…I knew those 10 minutes would be the toughest in my life…they would seem like 10 years…but I was sure, it could do no harm to me…how could it?…it was anyways in my control…yes, it shall have it’s 10 minutes of sadistic pleasure, but I would remain victorious for the rest of the day…

So, I took the few steps towards it, said, “Ok, this is the moment”…held my breath, and with one swipe of my hand, took the full bucket of water in my hands and poured it over myself!!!….for the first few moments, I could see nothing but flashes of light, as my mind went in a state of numbness…and then, I opened my eyes…

There it was..the bucket….empty, as it should be….I looked at it…I smiled….I knew I would not be kicking the bucket…I shall die some other day…and with one arrogant smirk, I kicked this bucket hard!!…With my chest swelling in pride at the act of defiant courage I displayed, I turned on the tap and let it fill one more time….

Pity, my father was not there that time…else, he would have been proud at how far his son has come along…from a kid who would cry at the prospect of taking a bath in the cold climes of the Bengal winter, to the irregularities in that process in college (please understand, the weather was beautiful, and hence most guys used to take bath on alternative days…i was a slightly worse than that), to taking bath in cold water everyday!!…I know…he would have patted my wet back and said, “Well done my son!..Kya bath hai!!”…

Anyways…I suppose I could tweak an old saying to sum up my situation – “when the going gets wet, the wet get going”!!….

And I too shall get going now…no no..not because i am wet now…please!!…I just want to go have my bath…I mean the rice bath…for lunch!

3 thoughts on “The Bathville Horror

  1. Doll: Thanks for stopping by…glad this post made you smile…btw, my fight with cold water continues – till the owner of my room fixes the geyser!!

    CSK: Thanks for reading this…just trying to see if I have a funny bone…:)…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.