Given a chance, washing my dirty linen in public is not something that I would prefer, and having forced to do that for the past two weeks, I kept feeling quite uncomfortable and lacking in confidence throughout the day. Washing a pair of socks, undergarments and handkerchief each day was not a luxury I could afford, given the paucity of time; and so, it was a weekly washing of six sets of each, as I attempted to turn them partly clean in a record time of fifteen minutes interspersed with continuous knocks and ‘Ho gaya kya?’ shouts. In this scenario, washing of shirts and trousers was a peril - no less; since it would invoke the wrath of twenty people – at least! So, quite reluctantly, I had to turn to a dhobi for getting the clothes washed and more than spending the money, it was the sorrow of seeing your clothes more soiled as they come back, that turned me off. I am told that a Kolkatan dhobi doesn’t wash clothes, he just wets them and dries them.

Finally, today morning proclaimed the freshness of a private room with an attached bathroom and I turned a dhobi today.

Washing begins with the knowledge of types of clothes you are about to wash, and the amount of dirt they would generate. That decides two important things – the temperature of water and the quantity of washing powder to be used. Cotton clothes, especially light coloured ones, need hot water and by hot, I mean scathing hot. First you need to allow the soap powder – ARIAL, RIN, SURF – it doesn’t really matter, in a bucket with a mug of water to allow the granules to disintegrate for a full five minutes. After that let the water flow it – with minimum force – like the American way of pouring beer. If one goes for the Australian frosty beer, one is left with much of the soap overflowing, as your clothes get tucked in, down the drain. The trick is to maximise the soap usage with no spill over, as you soak one cloth after the other, freeing the collar buttons and rolling down the sleeves, feeling the hot water as it burns your fingers and cleanses the dirt in your nails. Once the clothes are soaked, you can retire to an unobtrusive half hour of Sunday Times with Jug Suraiya, Dileep Padgaonkar, Gurucharan Das, a film review or a stray incident of India’s win in cricket with Sachin starring in the endeavour.

Then as the water has turned lukewarm, you go about taking one cloth after the other, as it makes a whoooooooooosh and splaaaassssssh before landing on a stone floor – mind you tiled floors are not good for washing. Then the brushing and scrubbing with the brush going khashhh, khashhhh on the floor, cleaning the lesser dirty parts until you come over to the collars and sleeves which require an extra effort. A little soap and some warm water, using your left palm as the base, while you scrub with the right hand, like a key- chain maker polishing the key, is what it needs to clean the cuffs and collars. Only then will you really be able to say ‘dhoondte rahe jaoge’. Kolkata being the City of Dust required an additional 'power'-full attempt on my side. There is darkness through this tunnel, an urge to let it go, but there is light at the end as you finally succeed to restore the original colour back. People giving off half way, should know that pain is a necessary part of learning.

Once all the clothes are thus cleaned, then comes the next task of rinsing off the soap. This needs at least two buckets and those who compromise with one bucket and a flowing tap, have never known what washing is – ‘Kambakht, tune dhoya hi nahin’. As the first bucket is being filled, segregate your clothes using the following thumb rule – Not more than two big clothes in each bundle, or three smaller clothes or six number of smallest clothes like socks, handkerchiefs, undergarments, towels, napkins which have less tendency to be dirty. By this time, your bucket should have been three-fourths full. Switch it with the second bucket as you start the rinsing of clothes holding each cloth like a chicken about to be killed. The rinsing should be hard and fast, not like Preity Zinta swishing and swashing her hand in the Dal Lake. It should go with a phattttttt...phataaaaak music, spraying the water around and washing your legs in return. This exercise also cleans nails of your legs and is supposed to be good for the lower back.

As the first bundle gets rinsed, the next bucket is ready and the clothes rinsed in the first bundle are rinsed again in the reverse order. In the same bucket, the second bundle gets its first rinse. In your third bucket, the last rinse of the first bundle should leave the colour of the water unchanged, while the second rinse of the second bundle, should leave the colour just right for the third bundle to get its first rinse to be cleansed off the soap. Confusing?

One needs to be very dextrous to manage the timing of filling of buckets and the calculations of the bundle of clothes and which have got how many rinses. This is a good test for your logistic intelligence and should feature on the selection test of the candidates. The art of rinsing needs innovative skills as the sizes and dirt of the clothes differs but the best sign of a cleanly rinsed cloth is the water remaining unchanged after the rinse. Till such a time, you have to rinse.

At the last rinse, let your clothes hang off on the bathroom rod for the water to drip off, while you continue with your Sunday Review. When the water drip has stopped, or there is nothing left to read in the Sunday times, whichever is later, you can proceed to hanging the clothes on a line.

At this point, those wearing white clothes and cotton clothes need to take a slight detour. White clothes – unmistakably white or Arrow white – need an additional care of Ultramarine blue (Robin Blue). Half a bucket of water, with the right quantity of Blue, lends an unmatched sparkle to your clothes. But the right proportion is what comes with practice, else you would have a white cloth which is bluish-black, blotchy and which the Bihari and UP Bhaiyyas specialise in. If you don’t know the amount, don’t experiment, else you would feel better off without the blue.

And for that extra crisp, M. S. Suresh looks try using starch. Cotton shirts would get dirty, but they won’t lose their ironing and crispness. Trust me!

Hanging the clothes on a clothesline is no less an exercise and I have seen many a good washers deteriorate as it comes to hanging the clothes – like cooking enthusiasts who shy away from washing the dishes. People just fail to appreciate the aesthetics of clothes hanging on a line symmetrically, with absolutely no chance of the ends not meeting and the creases and wrinkles all smoothened out. As you are ready to hang your clothes on a clothesline, remember to plan out the positions of your clothes. As you spray the left over drops of water in a phat.phat noise, the small droplets of water that spray on your body give a tingling sensation feeling. The finished product looks no less beautiful than a Rembrandt or a Picasso in full glory.

Mastery comes when you can do it with a cloth-hanging wooden stick and not needing stools to climb up and down. Perfection is when you can repeat the phenomenon of placing the same type of clothes at the same place day in and day out – that which my mother has achieved over the years. I can be absolutely sure that the left-hand corner most piece of the second row from the front has to be my towel and can blindly reach out. And it’s been there since time immemorial. Wonder ‘what’ would be replacing it today?

Having said all this, the joy of seeing the lined up clothes after the whole exercise if multiplied by the sweet aroma that the freshly washed clothes generate lending the room fresh and crisp. All your aching muscles will now be relieved and a joy fills your soul like all the sorrow being washed off with the dirt.

If at all you are from those who believe in ‘mammi ka magic’ working for you too, then you are surely missing out on this joy.

And now for a clean bath!