Everyone's attention went to the solo green light coming from the inverter. Then it went to the creaking of windows. The winds outside were gently toying with them. We went outside, strolling in our lane, feeling the cool presence of the cloudy sky upon us. Perhaps the only time you can stroll, without hearing the frantic taps of running street dogs, not knowing who's on their radar.
Indra, the Monsoon Deity must have asked Pawan, the Aero Deity to let loose the water-winds afore his own arrival, even before our own estimations.
We brushed our shoulders, then ran inside, and a droplet or two would find a way to sneak on our necks. The air was giving all it could to keep our doors open, our curtains were dancing and the glasses on our table were shivering.
Various sounds were ringing in our ears. They were not the sounds of rain, winds or thunder, but rather of the idea of their fusion. Especially the thunders: the lights will shine and the skies will tear themselves a new one, every time. So loud, so sudden, no cool breeze can help you catch a sleep, thereafter.
The actual rain itself is the most normal aspect, as it should be. During daytime, when long and bendy iron rods tied to a rickshaw are being dragged across the roads outside my home, my ears get tricked into thinking the rain chose to be an unwanted guest.
Oh, and why are long and bendy rods tied to a rickshaw are being dragged across the road? It's called cost-cutting ingenuity, reader.
For now, we will hear the sounds of rain or thunder, or rather wield that pillow over our heads and sink into the depths of our mattress. A bizzare static noise began pushing against my eardrums: creeping from the anxious fizz my brain produces, when I'm made to face the energies I can't switch off.
Fizz was a fierce one, this time. All my eyes could sense, as my face sulks in my bed, were millions of dark oily canals running so close to one another, while you can't even see them properly in the night under your eyelids.
Oh, how many hours? Gee, it honestly felt like years had passed that night. Everyone was sleeping, or perhaps were pretending to very well. I got out of my bed, my legs itching to shake off my energy. The energy born out of annoyance for not falling asleep on time.
We were in such a rush that we had forgotten to lock the kunda-swivel of our gate, the handle of the swivel had it's back over the lock. I grabbed and then yanked the handle up and down, pushing it to my right. The sounds went Kru-ku, Kru-ku, Kru-ku, Kru-ku,
then, DANGH, the gate was open.
Why did you do that, a familiar voice was twitching my earlobe. Said by none other than my head: It has conjured some habits, like nervousness, or perhaps it was the rational part of my brain doing its due diligence. Too bad, I was aware enough to act irrationally.
Depending on who you ask, it must be irrational to walk outside after rain: when the roads are wet and slippery, and all you wear is shorts, an inner vest and Hawaii slippers with grips smoother than your palms. But no one was out there to notice me ill-fitted, taking my steps with care, weight and balance, always on the verge to crack my hips on the dirty patches of asphalt.
And even if they did, well the anxious energy cares for none. It craves something, and it doesn't seem to exist in this lane. The lane was packed with houses: some occupied like mine, others left vacant like my neighbour's, and some in the midst of construction, like my neighbours from the future. And away from all this was an open field standing behind our homes.
A tractor had created some deep ridges on the fields, perhaps at one point to sow the seeds. That, of course, did not happen, and nature found ways to fill up the gaps.
Still, walking on such a field with these slippers on? Yeah, I kicked them out of my life. Some morning dog can have his moment for all I care.
The soil was soft, pebbles were not. Seething from my teeth, I moved forwards, forcing my weight on the edges of my sole, while trying not to twist my ankles, at the same time. It was so overwhelming my brain couldn't even bother to be worried about snakes or scorpions. The sky was still twinkling with occasional thunder; fast enough that I could barely make out anything clearly. Some pale moonlight seeped through the clouds, and I chose to mix it with my imagination to conjure the most feasible scenario.
I don't have to rely on imagery to know that there exists a forest ahead of the fields. It used to be dense and massive, and you could listen to monkeys screeching and dangling different branches. They used to scare away anyone from reaching close to the forest. But they weren't scary enough to fend off against the JCBs, chainsaws and trucks carrying wads of red bricks.
The winds don't howl, they hum with a shallow soul. Not all of monkeys have abandoned the abandoned construction. Sure, they're very cautious about spending their time around here: skillfully trampled trees surrounding an incomplete construction. The remainder of trees just stood there and had watched it all: when monkeys were hanging under their arms aghast, as loud cracks filled the uprooted void and the trees bounced off the earth. The remainder trees just stood still. A curse it is to be deprived of expression!
The monkeys, now surviving somewhere far away, would come back at times, yanking chunks of bricks off the walls. The little ones would throw it at each other playfully, their mothers would use the edgier ones to break open husks, but the males would grab it in both hands and throw it up at the sky. Maybe the trees would sway a bit to the side.
The power had been restored eventually. I suppose no one else had sleeping pattern as broken as mine, as the only thing lighting up were the street and entrance lights to houses. Nor was there even a night guard, flicking a flashlight and asking the sleeping citizens to stay awake.
Enough tomfoolery for one unusual night. I had to be quick, as the flashlight of my smartphone was signalling low battery alert. I almost trip and fell on my lost and thrown slippers that got stuck in the mud. The more I stood still, it felt like Mother Earth under my feet was melting into a cool, tickling sludge, embracing my legs to pull me underneath. Then again, I am no Janki, and this is no trial of fire.
I am a man, vulnerable to insects or reptiles I cannot see in the dark. I made long leaps back to my lane, with the smooth slippers in my hands now, by chance I need to defend myself.
Kraaanguh.... The swivel lock smoothly slid to the left. I slowly opened the door. I could hear the fan running at full force in my parents' room. I made my way into my room, and flicked the switch, plugged the cord into my phone and jumped into my bed.
Eyes closed, I took a deep breath, trying to drowse into sleep and drown in my blanket. My eyes felt dry and lost in darkness, forming vague scenarios to be lost in...
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep... The solo light of inverter flickered, the fans came to a halt.
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