…The Musings of a Strange Guy

No secret at all…(Rant)

Yes. I am going to kill somebody. Very soon. Am I the only male person who’s ever had a mother? I know that guys like us who stay on their own (i.e, in self-catering flats) are said to be very untidy; damn, they’re said to be downright pigs, but I cannot erase the sight of my flat kitchen from my beleaguered mind. 

 I mean, is it that difficult to keep a piece of cloth or even a towel or napkin with you when you go into the kitchen? Must an hour spent in the kitchen necessarily mean spilling everything everywhere with reckless abandon, and not caring for your neighbour who might want to live in more human conditions?

I’m going to take a few photos of the kitchen tomorrow and send the pics to my friends and parents. They don’t seem to believe me when I say that I live with pigs. We live in a block of 6 flats, and there are 10 other such blocks in the complex. I’ve seen quite a few other kitchens in that complex, but none so dirty and repulsive as ours. It’s not as if I can go and talk to all four of them. I did that once. They seemed at the time to understand. Now, I know that they only were humouring me, and that they did not even pay the slightest attention to my request.

The cooker top in the kitchen is more encrusted than a 1000-year old medieval coin. It looks like something that’s emerged from another era, possibly that of the dinosaurs. The floor is littered with vegetable peels; this morning, I actually had had to use the broom to push all the visible rubbish into a manageable heap. The rubbish bin seems to be the target of a throwing contest organised by blind men; dirt and litter everywhere except in the actual bin! The sink looks like a vat where the primordial soup of life might possibly be recreated. They just leave their junk behind – even their plastic bags! – hoping perhaps that when they turn their backs, all this rubbish will suddenly disappear by magic! I do not pride myself by being a meticulously clean person; hell, much of the time, I’m too lazy to do serious cleaning work. But there is a great difference between me and some of my flatmates, as I now come to realise.

Am I seeing too much? Am I reacting too violently to something that is only natural? This sort of behaviour is not natural; on the other hand, it frightens me, because it reveals the way these guys deal with their life. Never trust someone who treats his food like sewage; but then, the complete opposite might also equally valid. The others do not seem to have any problems with having such a dirty kitchen; I do. I mean, I grew up learning that you should respect your food; we even have this tradition where we offer our food to God before actually eating it. I do not really think that a kitchen should be as sacrosanct as a temple, but at least, it should be decently clean. Sometimes, going into this kitchen really puts me off the idea of eating. My aunt says that “boys will be boys” and that they really know nothing about cleaning and stuff like that. I say that all this is BS: what am I then: a freak? Is it a sin to have a nice kitchen you can cook a decent meal in? The only reason why I have not yet invited any of my friends to our flat is because of the deplorable state of the kitchen. I simply will not invite anyone to a place that exudes so much negativity.

It’s bad enough that 3 out of the four do not even talk to me; now their filthy habits are intruding upon my lifestyle, and this I will not allow. I am not an intolerant person. I do not mind their lifestyle or even their food, which is miles away from what I consume. I’m cool with all that. My culture and way of life must seem as alien as theirs seens to me. The reason why I accepted to share this student accommodation with strangers was to have this opportunity to get to know people from other backgrounds and cultures. I did not know I would have to deal with unbearably dirty spaces in the near future. I mean: this is a shared flat; I am paying my part of the rent, and therefore, I have the right to have a clean environment to live in. I am away from my family; I am on my own, but at least, my parents ought to have the satisfaction of knowing that their son is living in proper conditions. As a student, I cannot afford to have time to be distracted by such things as the cleanliness of the kitchen or the bathroom. I will talk to them yet again, but I will not wait for long. If they do the same thing again, I will have to go to the site office to complain. Or I will move out.

But then, why should I be moving out?

People from the Celestial Empire indeed!



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