NEPA brings light after two days. Your house becomes a power station. Then it dies again. The investigation begins. Your mother plugs in the iron. Your sister plugs in the hot comb. Your brother turns on the AC. You plug in your laptop, phone, and power bank. The TV is on. The standing fan is spinning. The fridge is celebrating. Then—darkness. The breaker trips. The house falls silent. And the shout goes up: "Who off the light?!" The interrogation is immediate. Everyone denies responsibility. "It wasn't me, I only plugged one thing." "I was here before the light came." The finger-pointing is forensic. The person who used the iron is suspected. The AC user is a prime suspect. The person with the most devices is the criminal, but they will never confess. Then the negotiation. The breaker is reset. This time, only the fridge stays on. The fan is a maybe. The iron is banned until generator hours. The AC is a dream that died. You learn the load limit of your house the hard way. You create a mental spreadsheet of what can run simultaneously. It is not engineering; it is survival. And the irony? You spent two days praying for light. Now you have it, and you cannot use it freely. The abundance is rationed by your own wiring. Have you ever caused a post-NEPA blackout by overloading? And what's your household's priority plug-in hierarchy?
