Monday, 22 July 2013

A Can of Oil and a Bucket of Moonshine

When the time came for us to surrender our heavenly abode, we were asked to perform a final act of rejuvenating the walls with shine. One from the trio had one of his bones broken which made help impossible, so the remaining two of us decided to end the demand in cheaper means by painting the walls ourselves. With a violent surge of enthusiasm, the unbroken roommate engulfed me in his determination to paint and get over with it. We got prepared to kick off the mission and descended the swirling flight of stairs gracefully. Having our foot finally set on earth, we set out on a long and engaging journey through craggy hills of dug up soil, dangerous creatures of speeding vehicles, perilous seas of potholes and a flooding river of people. However, our poor observation skills had us walk miles to get the paint while later on I saw that paint was being sold just a few blocks away hidden in some crack of an alley.

After facing the furies of the world beneath our tower, we found the shop selling paints and brushes. The shopkeeper told us that the colour we want was not available in enamel paints but we could mix the colours ourselves. A bucket of emulsion paint caught my eye and by whatever sight was given me, I failed to see the "Matt Finish" label on the bucket. We asked the shopkeeper how the emulsion would look after it was painted on the wall. He replied with an overwhelming confidence, attested by the sideways swinging of his head, that the wall would shine in such glory which would challenge the sun's own. To this day, it pains me to think about the trust he sucked right out of us wit his petty lies. We bought brushes and paints and went back to our tower above the clouds.

With help from an additional kind soul, we went about painting the house admiring our work of art until the paint started to dry. The energy drained out of our body immediately when we saw not a shining wall but an absorbing energy which sucked in all the moonshine from our heads. The wall looked smooth and beautiful sans the gloss so we decided that it was better than how it previously used to be. So we went ahead giving double coats with whatever energy was left in us. The second revelation of joy was also short lived as the landlord decided to pay a visit and found out that his house was not shining anymore. He got freaked out and told us he needed only 'aail' (oil) paint on his walls. We tried to explain to him that this EMULSION paint was as expensive as the enamel paint and that the rooms looked more appealing with the matt finish but to no avail. He was like a kid asking for his brother's toys although better was being offered to him. He accused us of covering his precious shining wall with cheap distemper. I angrily picked up the bucket and hovered it before his eyes showing him the printed price but who would look? His eyes were already blinded by the fact that we had robbed him of the shine. There was no way we could justify our mistake and he was not the graceful one to consider. But after all, it was the shine that we took from him, why would he consider it at all?

Having been utterly discouraged, my roommate was ready to give up but an idea popped up in my head and refused to go. Being headstrong, I turned the tables and forced him to join in on carrying out my evil scheme. We went back to the same shop and gave the shopkeeper a piece of our mind on how he lied to us. Apparently, he didn't care how much he lied and to what degree because he fooled us for the second time by making us believe that the water based colouring agent would dissolve in the enamel paint. And there was a'universal colourant' tag on the bottle which helped him prove his point. With the colouring agent, a can of enamel and a litre of thinner, we returned to our abode to superficially spread a layer of enamel over the emulsion painted wall.

The colourant refused to mix with the enamel paint further raising our frustration levels to new heights. I shook and shook the immiscible liquids until I obtained some sort of my own emulsion. The trial patch gave satisfying results, so we went ahead on a full scale smearing of the wall with our DIY 'aail' paint. It took us two rooms to realize that our smearing had turned the pretty walls into some ghastly plaster. That was the point when our spirits melted away into the depths of the deepest abyss ever imaginable by any living being. We dropped our tools and paints and left the house as it was having been completely defeated in each and every painting way possible.

Days later, the landlord finally came and to his horror saw the ruins we left in his house. I couldn't care less and acted as if nothing had gone wrong. I conjured up all the Kannada in my power and explained, "Paint chanak illa!", which I hope meant that the painting is not beautiful. He agreed with the patented sideways swinging of the head and before he could ramble further in Kannada I gave my glorious monosyllabillic Kannada agreement which I think he understood. All I had to say was, "Painter call madi, paint madi, advance money cut madi." He performed the pendulum swing once again and I was free from all the painting woes. A shining weight had been lifted off my matt chest and I was free to run wherever I wanted.

This particular adventure cost us a fortune but it also helped us gain deeper insight into the mentality of shinephillic people and paint sellers. Never try to go against the wishes of shine loving landlords and never ever trust in a person who sells paint.

1 comment:

  1. I love the paintings that you are leaving on my wall sans the shine. Shine illa... Perfect machcha!