It was a usual lazy evening, listening to the Indian
political debate in the News Hour, while scanning through the new project
documents with a scratching head. The white carpet of Chicago winter had swallowed
our horizon, giving a pleasantly itching feeling. It was Siva’s (the body
builder and muscleman of our room) brisk steps and screaming that made me
conscious of the stinky smell and the eye-watering smoke around me. In fact, it
was a shocking realization that not only I was unaware of what happened around
me with all my five senses open and apparently working, but also the hard work
of a small pizza and micro oven for 12 minutes could make our room a chimney of
cashew nut factory. We were literally lost and dumbfounded for sometimes.
By the time I learnt that he had placed a pizza in micro oven
for 15 minutes with a watering tongue for the usual late lunch (at 5’o clock in
the evening) and at the 12th minute itself the kitchen and hall were
totally smoked from the oven, as if the Kochi corporation smokes for mosquitos,
the situation was unbearable. Luckily or
unluckily, the smoke detectors neither in the hallway nor in the rooms uttered
a word or even cared to acknowledge the presence of such a suffocating smoke. And
we call them smoke detectors! Nevertheless, I would not blame them for such an
irresponsibility, mainly because it was not something new to them. They are
used to it, more precisely fed up with it. And that was when I got reminded of
the burned banana which I had seethed for hours in the same morning and found
next to the micro oven, as the proof of my cookery expertise.
The dark had fallen early, sending the sun to India where my
family and friends must have animated for a new day without knowing the agonizing
feeling I was going through. The very reflexive action I could do was opening
the hallway casement window to let the smell and smoke flow out, without caring
the chilly cold that made me nearly freeze to death. Please note that this was
the week of the lowest known temperature in Chicago with a warning of record 60
degrees below zero. Had Sujith (my other roommate) been back from office, he
would have given the mathematics of Fahrenheit and Celsius, which I never
understood and hopefully never will. And for the first time in my life, I understood
the phrase ‘between the devil and the deep blue sea’; I was between the stinky
smoke and the freezing wind chill. Not only we were freezing, but the hallway
was stuffed with the putrid smoke as well.
We were running here and there, probably to warm ourselves
or ponder for a solution. It might be to cover up the anxiety as well. While floating
over the smoke and chill, we were exchanging many an idea, but nothing got registered
into our minds or was convincing. Finally, my logic and school physics came for
rescue. I had the biggest discovery of my life that made the rest of the day
horrible. I found the air flow in our hallway at stagnation, in lieu of casement
window being open, attributable to which we were freezing. A logical conclusion was keeping the opposite
door open to the corridor and I didn’t even think to do so. Eventually, the smoke
decided to hesitantly quit the arena. There must have been a feeling of relief or
victory in my face, when I leaned back to my office cushion chair and started
concentrating on the debate moderated by Arnab Goswami.
It was an ear-tearing alarm that made me hop from the chair.
We flew into the corridor to find the source of the panic sound. Barrington
Lakes apartments has a peculiar, stereotyped and enclosed corridor that has all
the doors of the two-rowed rooms opening into in a three-storied building. There
was a strange sight that no one in the apartment would have ever watched
before. The windy chill had stuffed all the smoke into the enclosed corridor,
giving a heavenly experience where we look at many a thing but see nothing; we smell
a lot but feel nothing. Finally, I managed to fix my eyes and ears into a big
red bell that reminded me of my old golden college days when I used to await
for similar ring either sitting on the bench inside the classroom or standing
outside of it. I had been here in this apartment for more than three years and
that was the moment when I noticed the existence of that big red bell.
Through the heavenly fog in the corridor, I saw many human
forms floating around. No sooner I heard the human beings in the fog screaming
as well. I grubbed my eyes to find the fact of the vision and was astonished to
know that the residents of the building were screaming and evacuating; some
with jackets and others didn’t even care for the killing cold outside. The big
red bell in the corridor was ringing louder and louder.
We smelt a rat. Something was going terribly wrong. We ran
into kitchen. Siva put the burned plate and pizza (in fact a charcoal of pizza)
into the garbage box. I wondered his presence of mind for a moment. Somehow I knew
somebody would come from leasing office and they would arrange for not only smoke
remover but for a garbage collector to clean our kitchen. Spontaneously I started
cleaning the kitchen and for my wonder I did it with seconds. I scanned the
kitchen and the hall. Nothing was in place. Chappals were scattered. Amazon boxes
were spread across. The floor was littered. Tables were topped with untidy
objects. The people in the TV were still debating about international cases. I remembered
that the debate was all about Devayani’s strip-off search case. I could
concentrate on nothing, as the bell went on ringing louder and louder.
Manu and Hari (colleagues staying next door) came running. I
realized another naked truth that everybody could recognize the source of the
smoke. We were gone, I thought. I couldn’t but laugh when Hari explained how
the dancing old lady was running out and commenting that they never knew…, when
asked of the reason. Again I went to the corridor to see if people were still
evacuating. All of the sudden, an idea ringed a bell. I ran to the door of the corridor
and kept it open. Then I realized that people from top floors had also started
stepping down. I tried to explain to most of them, telling it was just a
kitchen smoke, though few were not convinced. The bell was ringing and ringing.
I peeped in and through it. There was nothing to cease it. I just flashed about
the smoke detector in our hallway and the famous dialogue by Soman (Malayalam
actor in the movie Hitler), “Had she just cried loudly…”. Then came Akhil (another
colleague staying next door) and narrated the story of how people were evacuating
and I shouldn’t have discouraged people from their right of being safe.
I stood in the corridor with blank mind but heavy heart. The
fog started fading. Standing on the rear end of the corridor, I saw somebody
approaching from the front door through the fading smoke. The closer the figure
came, the more trembled I became. Bluish black shirt and pants. A yellow emblem
in the shoulder and white symbol on the chest. A black cap with white badge. Blacker
belt with visible holster and gun. It was the same figure that always came to
my mind whenever I drove over-speeded or didn’t pause in the stop signals. Yes,
it was a policeman. He was stern in his target. He just entered our room. With trembling
legs, I followed. I still wonder how I did manage to make him understand that nothing
is serious, with my broken English. No fire… Just a smoke from oven… He was not
to simply buy my words. He searched in and out of kitchen with right hand on
the gun holster. He was verifying again and again whether it was from the small
oven. I was not at all dare to reveal the truth of pizza. The final number I could
put forth was that the smoke was created by the burned banana that laid next to
the micro oven. It looked far better to show the burned banana than the charcoal
of pizza. And for the first time, I felt proud of my cookery fault. Even though
I was not sure, I did convince him. Eventually, he was calm and whispering over
the walkie-talkie, convincing somebody on the other end. Ultimately, when the
gentleman asked us to be safe and stopped the ear-tearing alarm in the corridor,
I sank into the chair and sighed with relief.
All of the sudden, two people emerged from the dark on the
left side casement window, pushing it wide open, with axes and gas cylinders in
hands. For a moment, it was breath stopping. They were two fire engine equipped
personnel with greenish costume. They also jumped into kitchen with some fire
detector and scanned completely. I was still in the shock of seeing two aliens.
They also made an exit after a thorough checkup and conviction. And it was when
Randheer, Sujith and Jibin (colleagues and roommate) returned from the office, I
and Siva realized the whole building had been surrounded by policemen and fire
engine personnel. While all of us were cracking the jokes on the mannerism of
people evacuating and the fine that would be levied for this, in mind I was
saluting the gentlemen who flew into the spot within five minutes. When I started
hearing the debate again, I again sunk into a deep indignity about the proud
India we speak of. What would have happened in the same situation there? It may
be because of the over population and lack of respect for lives. Or due to the
inefficiency of the equipment and personnel. Or even owing to people like me…
At some point of our discussion, we started talking about
the fine to be levied for this whole trauma we (probably I) created. We made
all the people evacuate. We made policemen and fire engine personnel fly all
the way. Though I had also joined the party, guessing a fine of $500, in fact I
was expecting nil charge in mind. Finally, Randheer came with an idea that we
could call and confirm with Suresh (Randheer’s manager) of the charge. We did. It
was a fuel to the flame. He confirmed that we would be charged from $350 onwards,
based on the distance the policemen and fire engine personnel traveled. For a
moment, I realized the need of police and fire stations next to our house. At
night, the whole incident was reeling in the realm of my mind like an eventful
dream. The entire night, something was pecking my heart with its heavy beak. It
was not the lost feeling of the hefty fine or the dreadful memory of the
unexpected evening. I think it was the harmless lie I made to a gentleman where
the charcoal of pizza turned into the burned banana fry!
