true crime

I love crime fiction.

Couple of weeks back, I read Michael Connelly's "The Late Show" which introduces a new "hero"--Renee Ballard. I didn't like her. Lately, even Connelly's tried-and-tested Bosch novels have been as comfortable as Malayalam movies with ageing superstars. Quite tragic and definitely a bore.

Yesterday, I started reading Ian Rankin's "Rather Be The Devil". My now-declared-former hero Rebus has quit smoking and seems to be having lung problems. His daughter has a kid and he seems to have an understanding partner. Geez! If Holmes and Watson had got into a same-sex marriage, I would have felt less sick.

This year has been bad for my fiction too. I have not written a story this year. That should be good news for my friends, much-tortured or not, if there are any.

One reason for that is that I have been involved in a true crime. It has left me tortured, sleepless and totally hopeless. And barely alive.

Recap 1: Since January 24, 2019, we have hardly got water. Well, to be exact, we got on 3 days (February 9-11). Then, we got a total of 600 liters on March 1 and 2. Today early morning, March 17, we got 85 liters in 1 hour.

We got plenty of lies though. We were told that the water shortage was because of power failure at the water treatment plant. Then, it was because of Attukal Pongala. Then, the trump card---global warming and water crisis. We believed all that, especially the last, even when we had anecdotal evidence of people in other areas having enough and more water to waste. Well, even our neighbours were wasting plenty.

Yesterday, we got to know the real reason. They diverted water from our line, which was already insufficiently supplied, to a new government Eye hospital. Who are the "they"? The government---Water Authority, politicians, Corporation, etc.

Instead of taking a new line from the Mains, they decided to save time and pennies by taking from a residential line where most would still get enough. Most, not all.

Recap 2: We have survived the last 2 months by begging for water from our Councilor. It feels like God's gift. We have written to the CM, the MP, the MLA and the Collector. The CM forwarded it to the MD of Water Authority. The MLA promised to get us water immediately. We communicated with Water Authority too. We thought we were heard when they installed one of two valves required for better distribution in this line. But even before the first valve was tried and tested, the Residents Association got the police to do a hit job in 3 days. That "valve-project" was left unfinished.

That was not the first time the Residents Association used the police to "hit" us. Not the first time it resulted in reducing our water supply. Not the first time it has worked to the advantage of its Committee members and preferred residents.

Who knows if the Water Authority ever intended to install the more important second valve? Who knows the current state of the first valve? Has it been opened totally? Or has it been kept partially closed so that the near and dear ones of the Residents Association get water but not us?

There was the stink of caste in the air.

I wrote again to the MP, the MLA and the Collector. No response.

The stink got stronger.

There is a bit of irony in that. The MP has in recent times raised quite a few protests about Churchill and his views on Hinduism being partly barbaric. If the MP does not consider caste to be barbaric, and if he cannot take a stand against discrimination based on caste, then should he be talking about Churchill?

As in crime fiction, one of the smaller villains turned out to be a good guy, relatively. In 2017, during a water crisis of a smaller magnitude brought about by drought, one Asst Exec Engineer of the Water Authority was brutal but frank. He told my old parents to carry water in buckets from a tank 50 meters from our house. He told my parents that if people in a shanty/slum area of Trivandrum have to do that, why can't they? He also told us that our water problems could end if someone or anyone at the top gave him orders to correct the situation. How true.

No one above him was/is interested. How true.

Most crime fiction fails to be considered as literature. One of the reasons is that the formula for crime fiction includes a satisfying ending. The criminal has to be identified. The hero has to be successful, at least partly.

True crime and great crime fiction do not have that restriction.

The criminals live happily ever after. And the hero gets b*ggered.

Of course, in great crime fiction and in true crime too, the narrator cannot be trusted totally.

MAD play

I know that all of you have been worried about two nuclear neighbours going into Mutually Agreed Destruction mode.

Out here, I have had other petty troubles. Since January 24, we have received water for only 3-4 days, that is, about 2500 liters in 38 days.

On February 7, I sent my last and final prayer to the Chief Minister (cc'ed MLA, MP and Collector). I told them that the Water Authority had thought of installing a valve but were scared of hooligans in the area who would violently oppose any reduction in their water supply (they need more than 1000 liters a day).

On February 26, a valve was installed and kept in a semi-open state. And as a result of that, we got about 600 liters of water in 2 days (that is included in the 2500 liters in 38 days). The hooligans tried to block on February 25 and 26.

The hooligans did another surgical strike.

On March 2, the valve was opened totally, and everyone is back to square one.

Please note: only Indians are involved in this MAD neighbourly play.