Of Terrible Neighbours and Foul Smells

My good friend Ani refers to my neighbour as a weird looking guy with a wide grin. The wide grin, dear folks, arises when he is in front of a plate full of his wife’s microwave cooked food. And boy IT STINKS!!

Ok, to begin, I must introduce you to this specimen. I first bumped into this guy late July 2005 when I first moved into 07-47 Graduate Hall. He was living in 07-4x with a female companion, an ugly, miserable cow. His wife.

I met him in the elevator, and in true hill billy courtesy enquired about his wellbeing. Turns out that I can’t understand a word this guy says – and it puzzled me. He looked very Indian to me… and his wife looked typically 1^st generation Indian from Singapore-Malaysia (most of them look defective). The guy spoke with an Oxbriford (Oxford – Cambridge – Stanford) accent. Like I have done many times in the past with others, I asked this chap where he hailed from. The answer baffled me further.

Turns out this wet fungus-infested trench-coat was from my beloved Bombay. And to imagine he belonged to the same tribe as the ‘Minister of Cool’ Arjun Sankalia. Yes. Gujarati from Bombay. I let it be.

A couple of days went by before it started to hit me. It turns out that Mr. & Mrs. Smith invested in a microwave oven. And her mother taught her to cook one dish.

One fucking dish that stank.

And they would cook this everyday, and night. Their window faced mine at a very acute angle – and the pungent fumes found their way right into my room. Sometimes they cooked this genocidal dish for 3 hours in the weekend. 3 foul hours!!!

And cooking is not allowed in rooms here. Yet, Mr. & Mrs Smith do so.

I once spoke to him about this issue… and to my horror, realized that he was not just ugly and filthy, but downright nuts. This chap is pursuing some sort of PHD in applied astro engineering. He used his skills to explain the science behind the pattern of wind flow and the effect it had on open and closed doors & windows.

They make a great pair. They love Hum Aapke Hain Kaun – I guess that their favourite album. There was a time they played that on repeat mode. Imagine listening to ‘bhabhi tum khushiyon ka khazana… ‘ and that geriatric bitch Mangeshkar shrieking ‘Hum aapke hain kaun…’. Back to Back. Over and over and over …

At 29, do I need this?

And a few days I play my favourite Bruuuuce album, and Eugene Lee sends me a note. More about that later. For now, if you see Mr. & Mrs. Smith, please throw a rock at them. You can’t miss his grin, ape like face and his turnip looking wife. He roams around with a baygon at lobby 3, level 7.