A window is something that stands as a gateway between two
mediums. It allows anything to pass from one medium into the other. In general
sense, we find windows stuck to the walls in our houses, schools and other
infrastructure. We also find windows in Computers, but let us not talk about
that.
Let me get more realistic and use me as the example, who
serves you better than yourself, eh? So I live in an apartment and I am blessed
to have a room all for myself, to carry out my perfect plans and evil deeds. My
room has got this noticeable facility of a window to let in fresh air and
sunlight. And um, dust. It offers me a good view of the next apartments
building and in the manner gives me a sneak peek into the lives of the people
living in those flats.
Give some credit to my university for the postponement of
examinations, they give me the chance to not miss what all happens around my
room's window. When you pop your head out of the magic space, to your left side
is the road that passes through the heart of our locality. There on the
sidewalk, you shall witness a dhobi, whom I call the 'Ironman'. He sets out for
a busy day long before I even wake up, going about collecting clothes from
different households. He has for himself a small radio attached to the tree under
which he works. From dawn to dusk he listens to Telugu songs and works to his
heart's fill. And hey, he does not work alone but his wife accompanies him
daily. They share work and take shifts so that each can deliver the clothes
that have been ironed. Now, what does their son do? He is on his way of
becoming a Chartered Accountant very soon. And his hopes shall not die.
To the right side of this window, you shall find a big
mango tree that seems to bear mangoes every summer. My mother asks me to go get
a mango when our refrigerator runs out of vegetables suddenly. The best part
of this chore is, I have to bring the raw mangoes
to the ground by using a tall stick that I have to smuggle from my watchman's
custody. As a bribe, I have to offer him a mango while I carry back home a
couple of them.
The rest of the day is spent in front of the computer, or
the television or for my personal work on the roads. And next comes the best
part of the 24 hour time period, the night. Usually in our area, the nights are
rather calm when compared to the hulla-bulla of the day. As for me, I find
solace in such solitude. I use my free time then to do more of the peeping out
of this window. And the nights have their own mysterious ways of bringing back
delicious masala smells and scary noises from the branches of trees, along with
the winds they blow inside my room.
Exactly to the opposite of my window, at a bit lower level
is the balcony of a house. In it stays an old couple, maybe aged 70 by their
looks. From my viewing-hole I can see a good amount of their dining space.
Every night, the good old grandma serves dinner for her husband and they eat
dinner together in silence. I could never make out what it is they eat because
of the faulty lighting in their house. They use a zero watt orange colored
bulb in their dining area. They start eating their food at about 21:30 and
finish it off out-and-out by 22:00. I guess it is their timetable, because I've
seen them follow the same routine every single day of the year. And sitting on
my bed looking out of the window, I ask myself, 'Where are their children?'
The milkman has some odd timings to do, cause I find it
weird but he knocks on the doors at 22:30 everyday. I mean, do they deliver
milk at night times, but again my mom says it is the correct hour. So it was
this one night that I was staring into the sky thinking about something that I
don't think about anymore, when I heard voices coming from below. It was a
conversation between the milkman and our watchman's wife. Now let me re-
introduce to you our watchman. He is a middle aged man with two happy kids and
a wife. The kids, an elder boy aged 8 and a younger girl aged 5 go to the local
municipal school daily and by the levels of English words they use while
playing, I bet they are the toppers in their respective classes. Now make a
wild guess in your mind about how much a normal watchman would earn, given that
our apartments are just regular ones. Okay, let us move on to the conversation
between the milkman and our watchman's wife if you are done with the guessing,
shall we?
Milkman: See amma (for the telugu touch, of course) Please
pay the bill soon, or else I shall discontinue delivering milk from the next
week.
Watchman's wife: Ayyo anna, it it the month of May and we
have to buy books for the kids now itself. Or else they will say high rates if
it is the month of June. All corporate schools will be re-opened by then. I
shall pay you by the month end.
Milkman: I can't say anything now, your wish amma.
I stop my window games by this time of the night and
retire to bed with other plans of myself that I won't ever be disclosing.
We all have
windows in our rooms, in our houses. We see cars passing on the roads and Airplanes flying in the sky while sitting and gazing near these windows. We
see people walking on the road and people living in neighboring houses. These
windows are the gateways to our vision, and is that it? These windows, are the
gateways to our thinking. The gateways to those situations happening around
you. The next time you see the window in your room closed, try keeping it open.
Who knows, maybe a hot guy/girl stays in the next building and you never knew
it till now.
Open the windows, they tell you great stories and teach
you unimaginable lessons.
