The sheet, incidentally, is stained too, with three drops of old, faded redness. - Salman Rushdie
The sky tonight is a dull black. A dithering wind did not blow away the clouds. It will be a gloomy Wednesday morning tomorrow - I will wake up, read a book sitting on the toilet seat for ten minutes, then look at the watch and rush up to take a shower, enclosed in the glass cabin that gets covered with steam and makes me look more attractive than I am in the luminous yellow light that floods a wide mirror on the front. And then, Ammu will knock on the door; remind me that I will be late to work. I will quickly step out of the shower cabin, carefully place my feet on the blue mat, careful not to spill too much water on the floor. Then I will spread a palmful of cream, and apply it on all parts of the body accessible to my two hands. The clock would have ticked another five minutes, and now, I will know I will be late to work.
But that will be tomorrow.
Tonight, it is a dull black sky. Not that I can see the sky - what with the white window blinds that shield the view from me. But the blinds are not always closed. Sometimes, Ammu rolls them up. Sometimes, I also roll them up. Earlier, when we only knew how to roll up the blinds and not bring them down again, for days and nights light and darkness, and prying eyes, had free access to our inside. Then, I learnt from a stranger how this system works - how to play hide and seek with the world, how the black dull sky can be hidden from the view one moment, and then, the next moment, how the swaying green leaves or the brazenly oversized flowers can be brought back to sight.
Oh, and that is not all that I have learn so far. The White Sheet, after all, is getting filled. The lines have been drawn out, and the ink has started to spill. Sometimes I wonder why I must bother; why not just fill my palm with mud and leave a stamp on the sheet, and then let it float away in the wind.
But I trust not the wind for it dithers a lot. And this sheet is all I have. For now I will keep it with me.
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2 comments:
Hi Nishit,
Great to see you back! Your 'Mango Showers' still drench my memory from time to time :-)
When a reader can effortlessly visualize what a writer narrates, that’s when the writer is a good writer, is what I’ve always felt. And you Nishit, have managed to succeed in doing that.
Your narrative flows smoothly, and our visual imagination with it. I would surely love to read more
Keep writing,
Slainte!
Mayuri( from Caferati)
'Sometimes I wonder why I must bother; why not just fill my palm with mud and leave a stamp on the sheet, and then let it float away in the wind.'
What wonderful imagery and a superb play on words!
I absolutely agree..you should write more often!
btw..u cd turn on ur word verification to avoid being spammed!
:))
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