Save These Juices with Tosan Tarre
The Tale of My Greedy Neighbor (2)
(Hey people! I welcome you to the concluding part of The Tale of My Greedy Neighbor. If you missed the first part, you can read all about it here)
Hell hath no fury like a student whose foodstuffs are eaten without prior permission or something like that. Especially if the eater is a very thin neighbor with huge greedy eyeballs threatening to pop out of their sockets.
I was in my new room now but the wounds from the old room remained fresh. And I wasn’t going to let this slip by. For hours I plotted what to do. As I swept and scrubbed my new room, fixed the curtains for the door and windows, spread out the carpet… my mind constantly wove through the technicalities that was going to be involved in making this plan a reality. And then bingo! it clicked.
The next morning was a cold Saturday, a weather that asked for a hot cup of tea along with bread and butter. I made some for myself, very thick, with just the right spoonfuls of Peak milk and Milo, just the way I liked it. I made some for him too, in my very favourite mug and went to deliver it to him at his door.
“Ahan, this is much o,” he said as he collected it in a way that showed that he was not too eager to receive it. “Thank you o! And this is just the perfect weather for this.”
I chuckled inwardly as I walked back to my room. There was this saying that my Aunt Thelma used to give. She said throwing out the remnants of food for chickens when you washed plates outside will definitely make them come for more the next time.
My neighbor was all smiles and blushes when he came to return the mug. I was all smiles too.
That very evening as I made dinner of rice and fried meat stew, he came to hang around with me in the kitchen, talking of so many random things that I didn’t give a damn about. But I knew the drill, he was the one oblivious of what was up.
The aroma of my fried meat stew was to die for; it filled the whole kitchen and traveled into the passage and out of the house. A few of my other neighbors, while passing by joked that that food was one I washed my hands well to cook. My irritating neighbor also threw in a few comments on the smell of the food.
All of a sudden he was back to Extra Kind Mode. He helped me wash my plates, throw dirty water out into the gutter, clean the messy kitchen slab… things he never did when I squatted with him. All I did was say, “Aawww, thank you,” every now and then while I cackled inwardly.
In thirty minutes I was done with cooking, carried my pots of food in and locked the door almost immediately.
“Are you going out?” He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his face and voice.
“No,” I replied, without even looking at him, “just want to get pure water.”
Which I did and in two minutes I was back. He was standing in the passage when I returned, pretending to do something on his phone and followed me indoors almost immediately.
Right there in his presence, I served myself dinner, and ate the whole plate without even bothering with the usual courteous, “Come and join me,” while also watching a video on my phone. After all, did not my Aunt Thelma used to say, “Don’t finish what you started,” or was it, “Don’t start what you can’t finish,” Warreva.
When my neighbor left my room, I didn’t notice. All I knew was that I looked up from the 1 hour 30 mins video I was watching and *cricket* there was no one in the room.
You guys want to know what happened at the end? Well, the new week was full of somebody grunting a “good morning” or giving a cold almost inaudible “welcome” in response to my greeting or sometimes totally forming blind, deaf and dumb when I passed by.
But like I said earlier, I may be no misanthrope but neither am I a hey-greedy-eyeballs-I-give-a-hoot-about-your-feelings type of person either.