Room mates

“I shall break down very soon if this goes on”, thought Shuchi as she dragged herself out of the boss’ office. Her boss had reprimanded her for missing the deadline, yet again. In a way, she was glad about it. This could help her blame the gloomy expression on the scolding and avoid the office jokes about the sky-high standards she sets for herself; something that’s considered a sin for people with comfortable, secure jobs.

Shuchi had been obsessed with perfection for as long as she could remember. This had been her identity throughout and had always set her apart. She would either be ridiculed or held in awe, subject to a person’s mindset. But she was certainly always judged; so visibly dominating was the characteristic. As is the case with any human, the jibes bothered her way more than the compliments elated her but neither of them could change her one bit. Mistakes were still unimaginable and the word “almost”, still hated from the very bottom of heart. “You cannot live with an almost perfect pulse”, she commented often. And plenty of good did that do to her career; her superiors disliked her for her inadvertent error-spotting (even in their work) and her colleagues feared her for precisely the same reason. But come crisis, it’s she everyone ran to; for you could rely on her to finish an 8-hour work in 4 hours if deadlines so demanded. Consequently, she had enough certificates of “appreciation” to fill her boss’ office and then some but that office, ironically, would never be hers because of the diligence that got her the certificates.

It was one thing to behave so in office and be isolated for everyone had to at least behave professionally and let her be except the occasional sarcasm but these compulsions can never be left behind at office unlike work. They tend to seep in to personal lives and define a person socially. Same was the case with her. She could stand the passive hostility in office but forced companions found it real hard to suppress their anger out of it. One of them was her room mate.

They had come in contact through one of the multiple online forums to find a room mate in the big, bad city. After meeting up over coffee where both hid a few minor details about self, they agreed to share the apartment, Aradhna had begun to deplore her within a month for precisely the same reasons as Shuchi’s colleagues. Not that she could do much about it as the security was paid and the contract demanded her to stay put for a year. A year is long time to suppress anger for any human being but more so for a woman who is fiercely aggressive and carries a dash of sadism as Aradhna did.

Five months in to the arrangement, both could no longer stand each other; Shuchi would clean the apartment to the point of dusting the ash tapped off Aradhna’s cigarettes from the sofa while Aradhna would blow her lid if someone as much as touched her stuff. Arguing and yelling their lungs out before falling asleep due to sheer exhaustion had become a norm rather than exception. Aradhna had developed a habit of intentionally dropping bits of paper or match sticks and pointing them out to Shuchi and Shuchi compulsively had to pick them up and throw in the bin, mouthing expletives.

That was month five. Having completed 11 months, Aradhna could not wait to move out and struck out days on a calendar. An eerie silence had taken over the apartment as they both knew it was about to end soon. Though relieved, Shuchi was somewhat sad about Aradhna leaving but blamed it on Helsinki Syndrome and went about business as usual. Aradhna, on the other hand, could not wait to finally breath in free air. So happy was she that she even went on her knees to persuade Shuchi to let her throw a party on the final night. Shuchi finally agreed under the condition that Aradhna would clean up everything before she left.

Alcohol brings out our inner self. Aradhna introduced the game of drop-and-pick which she had been playing with Shuchi all this time, and her friends began doing the same. For a while, Shuchi coped, picking up trash but humiliation finally took over, and she slapped one of the idiots. Taking a cue, everyone made a swift exit, leaving Aradhna fuming.

It was like the old days. They were both screaming at each other, calling names. However, both knew it was the end of it and they did not need to hold back. All the pent up anger was coming to fore as the argument got fiercer and louder. Finally, Shuchi could no longer bear the pressure and fainted. But Aradhna was not done. She had lived like a prisoner for a year and now Shuchi had slapped her friend and she had to avenge it. In a fit of rage, she lifted the dustbin and overturned it, dropping the contents on the carpet. Still not satisfied, she started pouring fluids from half empty bottles on the floor and went in Shuchi’s room with an aim to trash it beyond comprehension. She was still at it when Shuchi came to. Everything after that; the final stand-off, the smashing of bottles, the terrible realization, was a blurry haze. All she remembered was trying to clean the mess she had created.

A week later, Shuchi was happier than ever before when she stepped in to the apartment. With Aradhna gone, she did not have to fight every night and she would find the apartment the way she left it; no surprise trash waiting to be cleaned up or no book out of its shelf. She examined the living room and decided to get a new carpet. Those red stains on this one just would not go.