“Shwetavastradhaari”!!!

Posted by: whitephosphorous on: May 4, 2007

• In: I, Me , Myself | People | Personal
• 18 Comments

Ok, this is again one of those “this happened to me” posts. “This Happened to me” was a regular feature in the Tinkle Comics I loved to read. 

Fine. Now, on with the story. 

This is not a childhood story; it happened some 8-9 years ago, in my current residence. 

There was an old man in our locality, who was an amateur tailor. He undertook stitching night-suits for kids, and general repair work of clothes, like replacing a worn zipper or buttons and so forth. He was called “Tailor Thatha” by all of us. His dress was always the same; White Pajamas and a White Shirt. He sported glasses enclosed in a plastic white colored frame.

He picked up clothes from our houses and delivered them when ready. All for a paltry fee.

He had a bad habit of sneaking in, un-noticed. Our gate is quite noisy and we like to leave it so just so that we know if someone opens it and walks in. This gentleman had an un-canny knack of opening the gate very slowly, so that there used to be literally zero noise when he walked in. Added to that, he walked without a noise. 

It was probably during summer. My aunt V, in a hurry to go out, forgot to switch on the light outside the house upstairs, and had not locked the house too.  It was around 7.00 in the evening. My Athe’s daughter A, told me to switch the light on at the bottom of the stairs and then go up to switch the light in the house and lock up the place.

I was feeling very brave and told her nothing would happen, as it was only 6.50 or so.  I went upstairs, switched the light on and locked the house and was singing and descending the steps………when I see a pair of white pajamas and white shirt climbing up slowly….advancing towards me.

 Since there was no light on the stairs, it was dark and now I was able to make out a spectacles frame too. All my bravado vanished; I stood rooted to the spot—started sweating, and my throat went dry. I tried to speak, but no words came out. With great difficulty, I said aloud “yyyy yyyy yaaru?” 

In response, I heard a familiar voice go “Nim Chikkamma ilwa”? It was then that I comprehended that it was Tailor Thatha, up to his usual tricks of sneaking in without noise. The relief I experienced is not something I can describe in words. I burst out laughing, told him she wasn’t at home and ran down the stairs, went inside the house and rolled on the floor, laughing. 

Till today, I am teased at home about this. In retrospect, it is a very hilarious incident. But the fear and the relief later is something I have never experienced later on in life. 

Why is that we have pre-conceived notions about the color white? White is the symbol of purity; it is the uniform of nurses, politicians and policemen in many parts of the world. 

 Why are we scared of white when dark? Is it because of its association with ghosts? Or are the people who wear white, ambassadors of ghosts? 

Intriguing.