Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Light and sound

The big needle on the clock keeps ticking. She is not able to sleep. She tosses around in bed for a while. Then she tries to meditate. Its not her thoughts or some worry that is hogging her mind. She has just moved into a new apartment. There are big windows in all rooms and beautiful view of thick green shrubs that have grown high enough to stand tall outside her 3rd floor window. When she first came in to inspect the apartment, the open space, the big windows and the greenery outside were the only three checks she needed to give it a nod. This was a great bargain for the price. Add to that, a small balcony with a view of the sky, the greenery and the chirpy birds.

Little does she know that the scene changes a little by night. Her bedroom window has blinds that can let in more light than the tinted glass windows of her car. There is a street light right outside the window, which operates on motion detection. So, if a bird or a butterfly or even a bug flutters around, the light turns on. And then it switches off after some set timer expires, only to switch on again in a few minutes. It's torture. The dysfunctional blinds do nothing to abate the nuisance. She turns around to face away from the window. But now she has to face the wall painted ivory white which only so beautifully reflects the light coming from the blinds. Oh the disappointment. She does not mind getting distracted into the physics and principles of optics for a bit. Anything to divert her attention from the light. Maybe bedroom walls should be painted in darker colors. She instantly recognizes this as her first thought ever of justifying a dark color on a wall. A new perspective, huh!

A few more minutes pass. She pulls the quilt over her head in an attempt to block the light. Only to find herself panicking with the thought of suffocating due to Carbon monoxide poisoning. Sometimes knowing can also be a dangerous thing :(. And the mind momentarily lapses into a disconnected chain of thoughts. But no sleep yet. Finally she gets up determined to bring an end to the tyranny the night has brought upon her. She turns on the light and moves about through the rooms to find something she can use to block the light. The whiteboard does it for her. She picks it up and places it balanced on the sill of the window. It blocks 90% of the light. What a change it is. A sigh of relief!

She quickly checks her iphone for time. It is 3:45am. All is not lost. She has at least 3-4 hours before morning. A feeling of rest and hope takes over and she quickly settles into her super-comfy bed/quilt/pillow combo. As a few minutes pass and sleep becomes an almost reality in her la la land, she is blissfully unaware that ...

In the lush green thicket
Over this window 'Macbeth,
The cardinal and the sparrow,
In the morrow liveth,
And hither and thither they moveth,
Singing and chirping songs,
And soon, Not light but Sound
Through the yonder window, breaketh... 

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

The Visitor

I made a new friend. Or that is how I say it now that he made himself feel at home at my place without bothering to ask for my permission. When I moved to Cville, I got loads of boxes along with me which I decided to keep for future use. When my small closet spaces simply refused to accommodate the rusty and disfigured junk I thought it best to let the boxes reside, one with nature in the peaceful quiet of the balcony. Just to make it more aesthetic, I placed them behind a couple brass vases on the balcony (an impulse buy that was struggling for recognition inside the house for long). At that time I did not know I was soon going to have a visitor who had a different perspective on the junk.

One summer night when I was alone in the house, I heard constant rustling and rumbling noises from the back of our house. With my fingers fixated on the “9” and “1” keys of my cell-phone, I spent the night with much unease, hoping it would only be the breeze. With the first sign of light however, my character underwent a total transformation. From Timidy Timidson in the night, I became the Sherlock Holmes by the day. Its generally otherwise for the superheroes. Isn’t it funny how light can change our character? Donning my sleuth hat when I walked up to the balcony, here is what I saw.

Instead of the boxes there were only shredded and tattered remnants of the cardboard. The poor vases were lying flat on the floor rolling slowly with the wind. Before my now-detective mind began to tie the loose ends of the story, I found myself being examined by the dark shiny eyes of a small furry creature from behind one of the shredded pieces. Its bushy tail was rolled up into a question mark; the face- alert and expectant. There was a small speck of paper stuck over one of its eyes making it look like a pirate who had just robbed a ship. While I stared at it, it stared back, still like a corpse. It was a squirrel alright but a bold one.

There was only one give-away to this bold mischievous avatar who was looking at me eye to eye- its pulsating heartbeat while one of its arms folded across its chest. I really dint know what that meant. Was it feeling so scared that it thought its heart would come out? Or was it conveying its heartfelt gratitude to me in advance so that I forgive and forget its misdemeanor and allow it to continue to stay in its newly found home. It was a long moment but its innocent and earnest appeal was enough to sway my heart. I gave into its desire to stay.

From then on we’ve become friends. Every time I come back from school, first thing I rush to my balcony to take a peek if it’s there. More often than not it is. And believe me it’s not out of love. It’s normally sitting there with eager eyes wondering if it’s that time of the day it will get a peanut or two to crush and swallow. It’s funny how it knows how to grab attention. One day I found it lying flat on its belly, all fours and tail on the ground as well, While it was soothing itself in the staggering heat of the afternoon, I was worrying if it had fainted or even died. The other day it advertised its presence by jumping onto the screen door of my living room and hanging down flat from its hind legs just like a bat. My personal favorite is when it has its tail swapped around itself over the head to the other side resembling a person with a Mohawk hairstyle.

I call it Squeaky. Not that it responds to the name. Let’s remember, it only responds to peanuts. But over time it has become a beautiful and inseparable part of my life- a joy that I loved sharing with you today.

(ps: This was the content of my 4th Toastmasters speech- "How to say it")

Friday, May 08, 2009

Idle

View of inside of the apartment.
Through the patio at the backside,
Sounds of traffic, birds chirping, motors running.
In the front through the kitchen window,
Some leafy branches on a tree swaying with the wind,
A side wall of an apartment.
Dull color of leaves, gray light streaming through the window.
Suggestions of a cloudy sky, windy day.
Sounds of typing on a keypad.
Intermittent human voices, music from a car stereo.
An emergency siren.
A plane landing.
The wet feel of a steam-cleaned carpet.
A sneeze.
Some warm breeze.
An ordinary day?

Pause.
Cursor blinking.
A confused stream of thoughts.
Undefined purpose.
Resolved as Tea time.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Cube

Her cubicle is in a private cozy corner of the department. It has a wide window on one side that lets in abundant sunlight during the day. Her PC is a combination of a sleek looking, Pentium 4, 1GB RAM box, a regular keyboard and a flickering monitor. The mouse is not wireless but the effort to create an illusion of such, by reducing the wire length drastically is worth a mention- never mind the restricted mobility. Her desk is pretty much empty of any docs or books as she prefers to keep them with her all the time. It is sometimes important to know that you have the freedom to read everything possible on earth even though you really never will.

There is a bottle of VASA mineral water on her table that is filled with water from the cooler every day. Since the water is too cold for her, she microwaves some of it and mixes it back with the remaining in the bottle to make it drink-worthy. The AC vent right above her head is the only hitch in her pleasant work life. She is still an Indian thermodynamically and even the five cold winters in the US has not made her any more immune to cold. Her most comfortable room temperature is from 75-85F. Anything below that makes her shiver. An old sweater resting on the back of her chair provides the comfort she needs.

Not all of them come to office everyday, it is more or less a quiet workplace. Other than the familiar hum of typing keys, occasional footsteps and phone rings, the coffee maker at the desk of her near neighbor from middle east is the only music she hears all day. This one in particular while brewing coffee sounds much like someone smoking a Hookah (tobacco pipe). While she was still new at this office, this sound had intrigued her for sometime. Until one day she decided to take a good scan of the workplaces of her colleagues to unearth the mystery.

Life is good with intermittent lunch-time and otherwise unplanned- some finite and other infinite chats with colleagues. Chinese Orange flavored White tea in hot water and sugar cubes add to the zing.