The May Saga
Of Stories, Leaks, and a Submersible Pump.
A break at home in India is rarely what you expect.
I’d front-loaded May’s posts, taking my own advice from Slowing Time, hoping for some downtime.
Except… it wasn’t. Not a real break. Not the kind you get on vacation.
Instead, life here had, ahem... other plans.
It’s often less about quiet mornings and more about plunging headfirst into a world where everyday matters demand extraordinary solutions, and reveal remarkable human stories.
Mundane matters call for attention, and for creativity of a different kind.
An unexpected broken pipe.
Missing water in the overhead storage tanks.
The hastily arranged infrared and radar survey reporting no leaks despite thousands of litres (hundreds of gallons) of water suddenly disappearing. Literally!
Perhaps we need a ground-penetrating radar (GPR) survey but those are expensive, typically undertaken by large companies or commercial buildings, not private residences.
The plumber shrugs. “Forget the report. Forget the old pipeline. I’ll save you money.”
His old-school instinct overrules expensive, inconclusive new-age tech.
Sets up levers on all pipelines.
Plays detective: turns each source on and off.
Watches. Listens to the pressure pump starting, stopping.
Follows the flow. Or lack of it.
Tracing the leaks.
Bypassing the bad pipelines. Thirty feet of it.
Lays new ones. Suggesting: let the broken ones remain buried.
No digging up stone, cement, and granite.
Water restored.
Money saved.
The plumber is satisfied, earning his fee, and your gratitude.
The kitchen sink hums again.
Alternate solution: beef up the existing water source, in case of emergencies, and connect to government-supplied water, or municipal water, as it’s called here.
Replace the old submersible pump with a new, automated one, made by Grundfos, a Danish company and global market leader. In India, their local authorized distributors also provide installation and support — an essential service for anyone setting up here.
Next: track down the different players to get it running.
First, the Grundfos engineers, trained by the company, show up to assess the setup and recommend the right product.
They arrive before and after the plumber, and then, the electrician. Never together. Not on purpose.
Then, the electricians to wire the setup. One shows up and is flummoxed by the complexity.
Another — an expert, recommended by the engineers — promises to come the next day, which turns into two days. His current job extended.
The plumber finishes the install anyway. He has other places to be — the more experienced the plumber, the higher the demand. True everywhere!
They all need to be chased, coordinated, and scheduled for smooth installation of the motor.
Usually by day 4 after purchase, unless you convert into a project manager and push to get it done in two.
With lots of time spent on the phone.
On WhatsApp now, not landline phones.
With location pins, photos, videos, and voice messages exchanged between non-English-speaking service workers, English-speaking users, and English-oriented apps.
You encounter the plumber whose family has honed the skill over generations, the electrician — a migrant from the troubles of other regions of the country, the carpenter who fled south, thousands of miles from his home city, because he was made to feel unwelcome one year.
Or a need to help the security guard who dropped his phone into the underground tank when he bent over, trying to assist the technicians. A careless action. Walks restlessly for two days, waiting for the massive water holder to empty.
Has to be dissuaded from leaping into the underground tank, filled to the brim, its motor still running.
Such the power of his phone.
Lamenting to anyone who would listen — he’ll miss his remote daughter’s daily call — a moment of joy in a luckless world.
Finally, he is urged to call her from another’s phone.
Satisfied after talking to her, he waits for a better resolution: a new SIM.
Needs guidance on transferring the remaining balance of five dollars from his lost SIM to the new one.
He remains agitated until the gifting of a gently used phone. Still worries: the gifted phone has dual SIM slots; his old one had only one. Will it work? Yes.
He wants a letter from the homeowner to the mobile provider — to transfer his balance. Because he assumes (rightly, sometimes) they may not believe him.
The balance is guaranteed by the owner, and offered help with the store visit, if necessary.
A working and poor migrant in distress is offered helping hands far from his village.
Depending on the person.
Most workers have a background story.
Forcing engagement, whether we like it or not.
Human stories are what surround us.
In India, no day is a dull day … unless you're the expat Indian or overseas professional stressed about tardiness and slow-moving ways.
The language of service in India is still disjoint — but improving — thanks to MNCs willing to invest in systems: process, training, better pay; and local tech startups trying to organize a disorganized sector.
This is why many have turned to the digital world — to bring some structure to the chaos.
Urban Company is one of the brave ones attempting to categorize the small DIY tasks that most urban Indians — especially those working in tech or life sciences — prefer to outsource for Rs. 100–500 ($1–$5), rather than do it themselves.
Whether they should, or whether they should learn — that’s the harder question.
Is it easier to pay and help another if you can afford it? To spread the wealth?
Depends on your perspective.
Some prefer to handle it themselves. The upwardly mobile prefer to save time.
The worker, hearing your intent to DIY, might ask: “Why are you kicking on my stomach?”
A literal colloquial phrase that implies you’re denying them food or blocking their livelihood.
A wise Indian in my network once said, as we drove through our urban sprawl watching people hard at work: “Isn’t it wonderful how God has created a job for every human?”
In India, you sometimes wonder, what came first … the people, or the services needing people?
That, in a nutshell, is daily life here.
On that note, I wish you many repair-free days in your world, and a beautiful June.
Jayshree
p.s. Catch up on my other monthly musings. If you missed May’s stories: I retold an ancient tale in ‘The Power of Women: A Tale of Vengeance,’ and reflected on the challenge of addressing visual distress on Indian streets. I also published two premium satires on arranged marriage, offering dual perspectives: Why She's Not Marrying Your Ph.D. from California, and Why She's Marrying Your Engineer From NYC. If you enjoyed them, why not drop a comment?
Lovely piece!-
Good write Jayshree! But two sides to every story; Why am I kicking your stomach? Why are you pulling my teeth?
As Robert Heinlein had Lazarus Long say in time enough for love; "A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects." - and prime a water pump! Grin.