August Rush

Friday, August 05, 2011

Humidity, self imposed burden and tension shot her eyes.

00:12 am

Room has been dug deep, bed sheet is thrown across the bed. The side where she does not prefer to sleep. The side which is not hers. The mental imagery in her head is so strong, she has the whole world divided in such a way that she tries not to step to any other country without passport even in her head. Rigid, Kant like. Cheesy analogies aside, it's hard to describe this sense of discipline. Even hard to live by.

People waste their life searching for true meaning, God, Brahman, liberation, divine faculty of mind and even ideas like good life. AC's remote and one decent conversation was all she wanted. Okay, not the latter, maybe. It's premature thought at this stage.

Movement from the chair to the otherside made the chair screech against the polished flooring, something that she'd always very attached to. She travelled back and forth to being 7 and imagining living in the house till her last breath. Coming back to the life, she scattered the books in a violent fashion. The magazines, wrist watch (that was her favourite) and the bags on the bed were moved, which meant the "order" was disrupted. This added to chaos in her head.

00:17 am

Maybe, maybe not.





The remote was nowhere in sight. However, she was strangely calm. Maybe, that one name did it for her. The name she wanted to hear, be with, one day. In her head, only. The idea of being together with anyone never appealed to her. Guy or girl, alike. To her, individual freedom and the sense of individuality would mean higher goal. Infact, this rigid attitude made her fall for men who tried to be aloof, far from letching and generally, uninterested in life and other areas. The events from the night before were fresh in her head. Activity. During the day and through the night. The biggest sense of achievement was managing to sleep for merely two hours in the morning yet remaining alive and carrying out all the work that the workplace expects you to deliver.

She clicked on the icon and hastily began typing what came in her head.

Withing 2o seconds, the screen showed her that other side was typing the message. She was still struggling with the remote. It had become an obsession by then, rather than necessity to sleep in an air conditioned room, a privilege that she knew she was getting from her family. Amongst the other luxurious things her house had to offer was an air conditioner. This was to be used in moderation. Switch it off after the room has decent temperature, do not always switch on the AC, use it when necessary etc. More than having to do with paying bills, her mother was one of the cocky "save the planet/nature/electricty/Artic Circles/Polar Bear" which meant implementing all the efficient sources of saving these resources came from home.

"Btw, have you seen the overall result? It's not that bad. We can work hard together, this year."

"There's no choice."


Staring at the silence. Giving a part of it to the screen and the rest in hope that she's going to find the remote and then continue talking. The fucked up, I see-you-on-screen-blackberry/macbook/yahoo/ymail. The old AC's remote was in her hand and she'd been trying to make it work by hitting it against the wall. Not the best idea, no sir. You wouldn't want to try it.



The sound and the tiny green icon is gone. Gone without saying a word to her after that refined bout of laughing and silly nothings. She had questions, innocent ones and ones that'd make you realise how much you dig that person. "Another time", she thought to herself and get back to throwing stuff haphazardly on her bed. It's the remote that was lost, the conversation wasn't. Yet, it came across the same way you meet your ex and there's silence or we're merely friends. Funny, since she compared it to the only means of communication they both chose to carry on. It was (and never would be) too casual for his performances (that she'd only heard about and had never attended). So it wasn't a glamorous sort of lifestyle that people believe a graduate to live.

She got out of her room and walked down towards the path of seeking truth, absolute pleasure of reminiscing the little conversation snippets here and there just to show her a list of how much do people love me. Only thing which was unavailable like Brahmas was AC's remote. She sat down, momentarily took out a pack of wet tissues and rubbed it against her face. The pale skin tone and small eyes made her feel even younger than her age but then you can't take hormones or anything for it. It comes naturally.

With panache, she got up, removed him off her head (since there was no room for two). Decided, it's best for her to sleep soon without looking so hard to get a piece of remote. The only thing she had to forego is to need to invest in a luxurious life.

She got up, one more time. This time, it was the final goodbye.

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