Ark Welding in India, Staring David Buco

First of all, I would like to thank my father and mother for getting me a train set when I was little. Nothing is like learning electricity by shaving wires and shocking yourself on some live tracks. I also can not leave out all the skills that I learned in Boy Scouts as well as the cat-like curiosity that I acquired there. I would like to thank my brothers for many-a-times, I am sure. I am also sure that there are many others that helped me on this one, but they will be unsung comrades in my brilliance last night. Perhaps you folks at NOAH should be recognized as well.
Last night I discovered that my mosquito plug in coil was not working, and probably has not worked since I arrived. So while each night as I tossed and turned swatting, I took comfort in the peaceful red glow reassuring me that my repellant was functioning properly. But after a particularly intense night, I decided that I was going to double check. After dismantling the piece, I found that the heater had long since fried itself, that the light was on a separate circuit, that the peaceful red glow was a lie.
I soon located the other coil that I had set aside long ago. The plug was too narrow for the outlet, but nothing a little prying with my knife couldn’t fix. I am sure, that unlike U.S. plugs, size doesn’t matter. (This actually turned out to be true, thank God.) After ramming it into the outlet, the light came on, but then flickered and went out. With night coming on, I was determined. However two screws stood in my way. Nothing my pocket knife can’t handle though. Upon carving out the screws, I slit my finger open, but with a lick of the tongue, my finger was good to go. This should have been an omen to stop there.
I however was trained by the best, BSA. After popping off the top, I was determined to find the problem. But there was no problem to be seen. All the wiring looked good. The switch is on. Maybe there is no current coming through. I can just take my pocket knife and test the current. If it sparks a little, I will know that that is not the problem. All I have to say is clearly it wasn’t.
In America, electricity flows through the walls at about 110volts. I am sure enough to make a pretty spark. However the 240volt brilliance that is seared into my mind as well as into my pocket knife will not easily be forgotten. With a blast of light, the power blew, and my knife welded itself to the wall. With a quick jerk in the dark it was over.
I am sure my parents will be glad to know that I am safe. Assure them that I am taking the utmost care, at least as much as usual. I am myself at least reassured; my guardian angel clearly came with me to India.