About six months ago, I moved into my own apartment that was lying vacant for two years. Most of the lights were not functional, the ceiling fan in the bedroom wasn’t working and the heaters in the bathroom were ornamental pieces. Water wasn’t flowing in the kitchen sink, the flush in the toilet was as dry as the Sahara and the washbasin tap was leaking like a sinking ship. To add to the misery most of the doors weren’t closing properly and the wardrobe doors were always ajar. With the caretaker’s help, I contacted a carpenter, a plumber and an electrician, all of whom promised to be in the flat at 9am the next day.
At 9am, there was no sign of anyone. I called the carpenter; he said he was in another location but he would definitely come the next day. The electrician said he would come by afternoon. The plumber never took my call. The day passed by without any person coming.
The next day I called up the electrician and enquired why he hadn’t come the day before. He profusely apologised and said he was attending to an important work on the other side of the city. But he promised to come that day. The plumber replied as he was doing some work in a water tank he couldn't speak earlier. He too promised to come some time that day.
At about 11am, he carpenter arrived. My cup of joy overflowed but only for a short time as he’d come only to evaluate the nature of the work; he’d come the next day for the actual work. He inspected the faulty doors with a grave expression which became graver with every additional door inspected. Finally he wrote a list of things and materials needed—door closers, locks, nails, screws and so on. He handed it to me like a doctor giving out a prescription. I had to call him again when I acquired them and then he would come with his helpers and attend to the task.
The electrician came in the afternoon and after an inspection of the faulty fittings said there were serious problems with the internal wiring. My spirits dropped. He said he was busy but would try to make it the next week. He also gave me a long list of accessories to be bought.
The plumber came the next day. He looked at the flush and the washbasin and said they’d to be replaced. As it was a concealed flush, the cost would be high. The washbasin tap, he said, was no longer available but he would get a suitable replacement. The piping also had to be changed. My misery was complete.
The items and materials suggested by the trio were duly purchased. It was not until a fortnight later that I was able to get the repairs done by the electrician and the plumber; the carpenter seemed to have vanished. His mobile was always switched off. The items requisitioned by him mock me. My doors continue to slam and my wardrobes are permanently ajar.