Once upon a time in Canada

I woke up one morning only to find NO milk in the fridge! Grrr…I am one of those people who cannot inhale the morning air unless they have their morning tea. Of course I like it made the Indian way, with milk and prefer it with masala. Hmm tea! How good it feels to clutch the warm cup in the palms on a cold morning!

NO MILK. These words started making their rhythmic appearance in my mundane thoughts. I was missing it already. Missing the daily ritual of internal dialogues I have, while sipping at the steaming cup. It is amazing how you get so used to your daily routine, that for one day you cannot have the morning beverage and world seems to fall apart! NO MILK. I reluctantly tried to wake myself up with a couple of glasses of water. And let me tell you, that it did not help a lot. NO MILK. I sleep-walked dragging my feet to the couch and sat in front of the TV, turned to channel 24 to look at the morning news for the weather. This was I, trying to act like everything was just normal and having no milk was not a big deal. It was not normal.

It was 6:00 o’ clock on a cold February morning. My eyes kept closing of their own free will. I was fighting the sleep. “I must wake up, go out and get milk”, I told myself, trying to focus my eyes on the TV screen.

SNOWSTORM! What! No way. I was startled and awakened without the help of the tea, that I so desperately wanted, a few moments ago. I still wanted it of course. But the snowstorm only meant that it was going to be a bit longer before I met my liquid friend. It meant that I had to put on my boots and winter coat dragging my ass out to shovel the unrelenting snow. SNOWSTORM! It seemed as though the “rhythm” kept going. Only this time, with a different word.

I got a psychological headache. Do you ever get one of these? It is one of those where you tell yourself that you have a headache because of lack of coffee or tea and voilà, you actually get one. SNOW STORM! By this time I was fuming at myself for not having remembered to buy milk the previous evening.

I had no option left but to drag my heels to my snow boots. I was still in my pajamas, by the way. With a stuffy nose and throat, the morning kind, I put on the boots and the coat and gloves and toque. This heating system really makes the eyes and nose feel abnormally dry, I thought. I ought to get a humidifier, I reminded myself.

I peeked outside through the glass on the door. There was a little mountain of snow right outside the door, so if I opened it the snow would leap inside the house. Since I had to get out somehow, I chose to use the garage door and get out from the garage instead of the front porch.

I opened the door that led to the garage from inside of the house. It was dark in there. As usual being lazy to turn on the stupid light, I started for the garage door in the dark.

KABOOOM! SHLAPP!

I fell face first on the bonnet of what one would call a car. Of course! I had parked it there the night before, being aware of the snowstorm warnings that were aired on the radio.

See what the lack of tea does to the human head? I couldn’t remember this simple fact! And darn, why on earth didn’t I turn on the light!

I tried to get off the cold cruel bonnet. Struggling with my boot that had got stuck in between the stair and the bumper. My knees didn’t know which way to bend. I didn’t know why I was so confused about the function of my own limbs, as there is only one way they can bend, really. Tired and angry at the bizarre struggle, I decided to lay there flat, face on the bonnet and enjoy the pain of the fall.

The metal felt cold against my cheek. With my palms facing the ceiling and boot still stuck, I took a deep breath and determined to give my freedom another shot. With the support of my palms and one free leg I pushed against the car so that I fell bum first on the stair. This would help me free my other leg. I have no idea how it got in there at such a bizarre angle.

I freed my leg and I realized my head was pounding. I could hear it. My body was shaking slightly and I couldn’t see a thing in the dark. I gave myself a few minutes before I got up and turned on the light. I shall never trust my night vision ever again, I decided.

I opened the garage door and got out. Finally breathing the freezing yet refreshing cold air. How stale the air gets inside the house!

The shot of oxygen did me some good. I could open my eyes now. The landscape outside was breathtaking. White snow dunes everywhere. The little, white, rolling mounds, of what were once cars, in front of houses. I hadn’t seen this much snow in years. It was beautiful, untouched and as white as white can be. Wall-to-wall. The snow on the rooftops seemed like icing on cake. The sky was a dark grey colour, lined by a narrow streak of yellow announcing the sun rise, spotted occasionally with yellow street lights. Black, white and grey, is all you could see. Breathtaking.

I was amazed at my ability to admire this work of nature despite bruised ankle, aching knees and pounding head.

I inhaled the fresh air again and coughed. Ooops a little too much inhalation! The chill went straight down my throat and I coughed again.

I had to shovel the snow. What a shame that life had to disturb such a beautiful landscape.

If I had painted it, I wouldn’t let anyone touch it.

I turned to get the shovel from the garage and started shoveling disturbing not only the soothing picture but also the silence. The sound of my shovel would probably remind the neighbors of their duty as well and the whole scene would be nothing but a messed-up piece of art. No one seemed to wake up though. It must have been 6:45 by now.

I returned to digging. My gloves were warm but they didn’t stop the freezing air from penetrating to my fingers. After a few digs at the snow, I was starting to feel the wrath of the weather. My knees and toes hurt. I had to take a break. I went inside the garage to warm up a bit. I stood there, admiring the outside scenery again, only this time raising each foot in the air, every so often, making sure I could still feel them. Usually I have a cup of tea in a thermos in the garage so that I can sip at it as I am shoveling. It helps me keep warm. NO TEA! Oh I missed it so much.

I went back to shoveling. I shoveled and I rested. I shoveled and I rested. This continued for a while, missing the warmth of the inside and the hot cup all this time. I was almost at the verge of tears by the time I finished the wretched task. I had also spoilt the beautiful picture of the snow dunes. If only I had remembered about the milk yesterday. I was helplessly angry with myself. The head was hurting even more now and my face had turned hot from the manual labour.

I went back in the garage after all the work and started the car. I don’t usually lock the car when I keep it in the garage. I reached for the seat belt and habitually turned a little to the right to buckle it in. And wait a minute…

I was stunned. Speechless. Almost delirious. What have I here?

A bag of MILK.