To wash or not to wash

Indian men aren't really pumped up about what they think as 'household chores'. 

I agree, the statement above sounds like a generalization. And the tendency appears to be changing. At least, in double income families in urban areas where the wife works too and the husband has to do the household chores. Which can also include washing utensils. 

I have a large coffee mug, I simply cannot use the small cups provided by the company I work at for a variety of reasons.

One fine afternoon I was washing my mug after coffee. There was not a single company-provided cup which was clean but a lot of used ones lining the sink. In comes a senior employee (with gray hair, no less). He looks at the used cups and me washing mine. He asks me where can he get a clean cup. I told him there are none but you can use one of the used ones after washing. 

Here is what he said, verbatim, "Life has not brought me to that stage where I have to wash a cup. But since you are already washing your mug, why dont you wash one of these cups for me?"

I looked at him and said, "I will stand here to watch you drink coffee out of your palms. Please don't disappoint me."

Which he did. 

He walked away.

Xenclaustrobibliomania

Xenagorabibliomania: An obsessive curiosity about the books strangers read in open spaces

This word reminds me of my shamelessness when it comes to reading. 

About a decade ago, during monsoon season, I undertook a train journey which was 14 hours long. Since it was unplanned, I was sitting in the cramped un-reserved compartment. Next to me was a forty-ish guy who had just started 'The Doomsday Conspiracy'. Not being a big fan of fiction, I deliberately avoided peering into the book. After a long period of five full minutes, curiosity took over. 

Old habits die hard. 

After some time, irritated by my shoulder surfing, he stared daggers at me. I, suddenly, found something interesting outside the window. He returned to his book. 

Thirty seconds later, I, too, returned to his book.

This happened quite a few times. 

Finally, irritated enough, he shoved the book, not in his bag but in my face and snarled, "You read it first!" 

It would have been stupid to pass over such a generous offer. On a 14 hour journey. With nothing interesting to see outside. 

With a rousing "God bless you!" to his incredulous face, I accepted the book.

And that is how I accompanied Robert Bellamy on his dangerous mission to find those bus passengers in Switzerland and escape liquidation. 

I coin the word 'xenclaustrobibliomania' for such situations. 

All those in favor, say 'Aye!'