Ever heard of this term before? No? Well, you would have definitely seen him. You will find him (or her) in big cities or small towns, single or married, living alone or with a roommate, in rooms or homes or PGs or hostels, but you cannot escape him.
This civil caveman is civil because he lives in a civilized society. He wears civic attire, behaves in a civil manner, talks and walks like most normal humans. But what is it that makes him a caveman? Not too difficult to guess, I am sure.
So it was this once that I walked into a civil caveman's house, and thank god, I was miraculously saved from falling on the super smooth floor. No, it was not shampooed or conditioned, but it was the constant rain of talcum powder that made it slippery in spite of being dry. There was more to come.
As I struggled for support, I remember my hands getting all muddy, obviously because the house wasn't dusted in ages. There was layers of dust everywhere as far as eyes could go. BUT there were clean spots, of course! Like the place where the wallet and belt were placed, or the towel was hung, or where drinking water was kept, of course, because they were touched and used everyday.
When my eyes ventured further into what seemed of more of a cave, I saw a pile of dirty clothes. Another line of clothes hung up on a rope. A few socks lying about. A glass here, a spoon there. I could not open the door to the bathroom completely, because I think something was stuck behind the door. I did see everything necessary was available there (necessary for a caveman, that is): soap, tumbler and bucket, strewn about and crying to have a home somewhere in that lonely (lowly?) bathroom. The floor looked like it had not been wiped in a few years and the entire bathroom craved for what the different cleaners claimed in adverts, and I was sharp enough to not dare walk into it.
Then I found a TV! The civil caveman's sole and dear respite from the world! It was right opposite to a mattress that was never folded and whose bed sheet cried for mercy to meet dear detergent and see some sun! The window remained permanently closed, for safety purposes (not lazy purposes, you bet). So the cave was always safe, you see.
The house was stuffy, smelly, dirty... Oops, I meant the "cave" was dark, lonely, dusty, cobwebby, slippery, murky, messy... You know? Bingo! Now you realize, you have definitely seen the civil caveman somewhere! Or cavemen. Or you probably are one. Or probably not...
Take care
So it was this once that I walked into a civil caveman's house, and thank god, I was miraculously saved from falling on the super smooth floor. No, it was not shampooed or conditioned, but it was the constant rain of talcum powder that made it slippery in spite of being dry. There was more to come.
When my eyes ventured further into what seemed of more of a cave, I saw a pile of dirty clothes. Another line of clothes hung up on a rope. A few socks lying about. A glass here, a spoon there. I could not open the door to the bathroom completely, because I think something was stuck behind the door. I did see everything necessary was available there (necessary for a caveman, that is): soap, tumbler and bucket, strewn about and crying to have a home somewhere in that lonely (lowly?) bathroom. The floor looked like it had not been wiped in a few years and the entire bathroom craved for what the different cleaners claimed in adverts, and I was sharp enough to not dare walk into it.
Take care
Wow! Very nice!
ReplyDelete