Those were the days when I took out the printer and printed a whole lot of pages at every little excuse. Not just my books did I print but also the many www downloads of books and articles . My printer had by then been thoroughly used and abused and made noises resembling a concrete mixer grinder as soon it was switched on.
Anyone who has ever used a printer can imagine the hurdles I faced. And since I was in a hurry , right then the printer went a step ahead of its natural behaviour and did a drama only it is capable of. It had barely printed 10 pages in a clear and clean fashion when it started making a rumbling noise like it was annoyed and began printing lines… First it printed colored lines and then after another page white and black lines… And by the time I could cancel the print it had put forth some five pages full of peculiar diagrams. And then the paper jammed. I tugged. The printer tugged. None gave up except the paper that ended in shreds.
I did what I should have done already : I slapped the printer around a few times. On its right cheek, left cheek, on its back and stomach. First a few light pats then a few tight slaps. Nothing. I gave it a good shake too like it was a medicine bottle. It rattled but nothing more. Blew strongly into its nest. Still nothing. Opened its lid, removed the cartridge, put it back..did this about 10 times and every time closed the lid with a loud bang. It made grumbling sounds but did nothing more. I got the vacuum cleaner and sucked whatever little dust there was. Still nothing.
The printer is out of ink. It declared on the computer screen.
I pounded on Enter, Esc, Shift, Ctrl + Alt + Del… One by one and at times together too…Mostly. I pounded on the Esc button many times and hard enough to embed it deep into the plastic encasing in the hope the miserable message on the screen would escape. Nothing . I checked and rechecked. Switched the computer off and on a few times hoping the message would miraculously vanish. No, it was still there on the screen. I removed the cartridge and wiped it on my dress to be sure. No smudge. Then to be doubly sure I spit on the ink side and wiped it against my thumb. Yes, it was completely done with.
I rushed to the market and brought a new cartridge. Another 30 pages and the printer was as hot as a car engine after a 5000 km drive. No worries , I switched on the air conditioner for its benefit, though it was winters and I was freezing. After about resting for an hour it printed another 100 pages and then again ‘out of ink’.
‘This publishing is already costing me some serious money.’ I grumbled, but then I was about to make a million in signing amount so a little money was nothing.
This was one time of my life I could actually see the million dollars floating in front of my eyes and to give it credibility I had downloaded an image of huge stack of money and made it my desktop wallpaper. To tell you a secret I bowed , hands folded in prayer in front of it every morning before beginning my day.
Getting back to my story… I rushed to the market again. This time the shopkeeper, a good man he was, explained to me how there was no need to buy new cartridges and how the ink cartridge people were scamming me and that how he would refill my old cartridge for almost nothing. Since a good bargain is a good bargain let it be for buying underwear or inter galactic rockets, I immediately agreed.
Me being a curious cat watched him carefully as he took the empty cartridge and poked a syringe into a tiny hole on the side, sucked the air out and then filled it with ink. I was impressed. I went home but not before I bought a big 5 liter bottle of ink and a 10 cc syringe of my own. After all I would be sending many of my manuscripts henceforth. Then the computer www itself was loaded with such great information that had to be printed. So, a 5 liter bottle would come handy.
Naturally followed frustrating times when the ink and the printer played mind games with me and informed me in the lines of ‘your ink is fraud’ but soon I learned how to tame them. There was a time when the printer turned into a serious headache and a friend suggested I give it a soap bath just like the one I gave my dog. I did. It didn’t work. I was devastated.
I called her up. “What nonsense have you taught me? My printer is finished.” I was furious.
“Blow dry it. Use your hair dryer.” She suggested.
I did. Nothing. I called her up again.
“Did you dry it in the sun after the bath?” She questioned.
I kept it in the sun in the balcony while the pigeons googoo-ed and crows cawed staring at me and my contraption as if we were something to eat and shit upon… And finally after about an hour or so of me guarding it with my life …. Voila!! The printer worked. I learned how to give it a bath after every six or so months to keep it in tip top condition. Not only did it look white and shinning but worked too without getting beaten to a pulp!
