Life in India has its aggravations
And we in Wadia House have ours too
They may not be global disasters, but
Minor trials are major, when they're happening to you.
Our main problem is water
It fills almost every waking thought,
Will we have a good supply today,
Or will everyone go short?
Twice a day the anguished drama
Rises to a stressful peak.
Has municipal water started to flow
Or has the mains pipe sprung a leak?
Then there's our old water pump,
It's temperamental and tired.
Though our mechanic does his best,
His skills leave a lot to be desired.
At last we hear the welcome sound
But too soon it fades away
The silent suspense is electric ...
Will we have another waterless day?
Advice and recriminations
Issue loudly from every door,
But our man is a robust individual
And of insults he has a goodly store.
At last we all hear with relief
The familiar vibration and thump -
Celestial choirs couldn't sound as sweet
As our clanking, rattling, ancient water pump.
Dedicated to my Wadia House friends with whom I shared
the daily drama.
1994
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