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 |  My blog. Sometimes abstruse musings and rants! |
JUNE 8 ENTRY: Freeze a scene from your weekend and describe it in as much sensory detail as possible. I am a nocturnal person, I love the nighttime and I don’t usually go to sleep before early morning. I like it because it is so quiet. My trusty TV and laptop are my only companions. This weekend, my cousins stayed over. I am moving and they wanted to come over to say goodbye. My mum forced a couple of them to stay. Sunday was like any other night. I was watching a rerun of the German GP on the TV. The sound of tires screeching past the cameras tried to interrupt my train of thought but it couldn’t. It was around midnight I suppose. I shuffled to the kitchen to make a snack. I squinted as I switched on the lights just for a brief moment. The kitchen was the same as always, clean as a whistle. The black counter top shined as the light reflected from its surface. The faint, tangy smell of the lemon chicken dinner still pervaded the room. I decided to make some popcorn. As I stood there, leaning against the sink, I watched the little patch of night sky visible through the small, rectangular window. It wasn’t raining, so the little insects, who make the annoying buzz sound, were at it again. They would have disturbed me another day, but that day, they made me feel home. I switched off the big light because I wanted to see the stars spraying their benevolent light into room through that tiny window. The popcorn kept popping in the background, some even fell to the floor in a frenzied jump out of the vessel. I walked back to my room with the bowl to see my nephew Issac sitting there, silently. He is about four years of age, the rowdy/insanely curious age. To be frank, I don’t really like kids that much. They ask too many questions and I am not that patient a person. He has my pillow in a death grip. I sat down as he started rubbing his sleepy blue eyes. That is one part that I envy, his eyes. I love blue eyes. I wanted to ask him what he was doing up so late, to tell him to go back to bed, but I didn’t. I needed someone. As the drivers in the race started the concluding laps, I looked around the room. All that stared back at me was brown boxes, the dullest color in the world. Moving boxes. They had most of my stuff in them. They were all around the bed, haunting me with their sidekicks, the bland, blue walls. I was never a poster guy, but at that moment, I wished I was. Sebastian Vettel won the race and jumped joyously onto the podium. The German anthem started playing as I munched on the dry popcorn. I turned to see Issac, more engrossed in the proceedings on TV than I ever was, albeit half-asleep. I ruffled his soft hair and offered him some popcorn. Not a word was said, but it was heartening just to have him next to me. He was just a little guy in Batman pajamas and curious yet knowing eyes, but he was there. It was all that mattered in the moment. |
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