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One Evening

January 20, 2011

Ashok gazed at the kitchen sink in silence. The pile of dirty dishes that filled it had reached menacing proportions. Clearly, something had to be done about it, and fast. But Ashok knew that it was easier said than done—it was, after all, quite late at night, that too a Monday night. And what a day it had been… Piles of work. Boss getting his panties in a twist, nothing new there of course. The gruelling commute. The purple Rhino who had escaped the zoo that day, creating absolute mayhem on the road. The events of the day, a curious combination of drudgery, noise, grime, and bad magic realism, had enervated him. But he wasn’t about to be defeated so easily, was he… “Come on man! Shake yourself out of it”, he mumbled to himself. Summoning all the strength inside him, Ashok let out a war cry in his mind, and managed to smash the wall of paralysis between him and the infernal sink. Then wearing an expression of steely resolve and also his pink washing gloves, he put the coffee kettle on the stove and got on with the task of scrubbing one utensil after another. The clatter as they jostled about in the sink, the intermittent barking of street dogs in the distance, the very occasional, distant hum of motor vehicles—these were the only sounds mingling with the night, in a strange nook of surburban Mumbai.
Goodnight, now.

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