Home Alone -1 Creating Life

First things first.. the only reason I have started writing a blog was my first two New-year resolutions( losing 5 kgs and learning a foreign language) have met with a painful demise. So choosing the path of least resistance, I skipped down to resolution NO 3..(writing a blog)

This is the first of a three part series entitled "Home Alone" which describes my series of (mis)adventures trying to survive all by my own at home. My parents decided enough was enough... They were fed up of my laziness and decided it was time to bring out the big guns.
So one lazy Sunday afternoon comes the announcement, "Son we're going for a one month trip to Kerala. You will need to fend for yourself..."
Engrossed in 'Best of Friends' , realization of what 'fending' for myself entailed did not hit me until much later- cooking, watering the plants, ironing my clothes,cleaning ( Yeah we do have a bai but it sounds more dramatic when I include cleaning.. ) I broke out in cold sweat. Parents are just not supposed to be going off for vacations leaving hopelessly parasitic children in the lurch.
So D-day arrived. Mom and Dad bustled off in an auto rickshaw. Their smirks were almost demonic.. " Let's see how he wriggles out of this one" was probably what they were thinking to themselves.

The first few days passed off uneventfully. Except for the living room which looked like a mating ground for ostriches, and a few burnt vessels( How am i supposed to know you have to use copper bottom vessels to boil milk) I'd by and large avoided permanent damage. I felt in control of things and was actually getting a little cocky.
And I'd even managed a perfect golden brown egg the previous night. Bring it on - was my mantra right now for pretty much everything.
But then the misfortunes started. First the bai (I'm sure this was also part of the master plan to make my life hell ) announced that she wouldn't be coming for the next 3 days. The ungrateful wretch... this is how you repay me for all the times I actually lifted up my feet when you wanted to clean the rug while watching TV... Then everything began to come apart..
First I discovered that Mommy dearest had left a bottle of my favorite home-made lemon pickle, which unfortunately I'd forgotten existed. Now I'm sure you are aware of the natural cycle every food item follows when left to itself.
1. It first turns a pale yellow. This is the most harmless odorless warning stage.
2. This is followed by a shiny black colour wherein a white gooey ooze is formed. Odor has set in but still well within the realms of tolerance. If you want a better idea just hurt yourself on the shin. Then forget about it for 2 weeks taking special care to ensure that the wound remains wet. This should bring about the onset of the famous black puss stage which is pretty much what I'm talking about.
3. A orangey gooey slush with an odour like someone ripped out the insides of a hyena. And that too one of those disobedient hyenas who doesn't listen to his mom and doesn't brush at night.
By this stage people generally find the food item thanks to the sheer odour. This can be likened to nature's defence mechanism of waste disposal.

But thick- nosed adults like yours truly remain unfazed by Stage 3 and require Stage 4 to alert them that something's amiss.

4 This consists of a gray feathery residue. On close analysis (with my 8th standard dissection set ka magnifying glass), I saw that the feathers were merely shelter for similar coloured industrious wrigglies which were busy creating a city of their own. And the smell.... Gawd... I swear it smelt like alcohol.... (Mom Dad... I swear i don't drink...hic... burp... just happen to know what alcohol smells like... hic..)

So anyways, regretfully I'd to dispose of the dabba. Apparently these wrigglies had some acidic reaction kinda thingie with the steel dabba. So had to get rid of it to save my ass... Evidence removal main apun sabka baap hai...

That's all for now.... Part 2 details my experiments with my Dad's pristine white Zen... (which is not so pristine anymore...)