Standstill

STANDSTILL


A beautiful Sunday morning. A day when the sun takes its own sweet time to spread its rays. Or so you believe. When time is a luxury, and work is on leave. There’s no schedule to be followed. And no schedule follows you. There’s just the whisper of the clock ticking and the oblivion of time passing by.

Tring. Tring. The noise intrudes on your serene existence. And the voice at the other end sounds alien. Actually, it’s one of those distress calls. A friend needs a ear and a solution too. Time to shake up your grey cells and tug at your sleeping heart. ½ hour. 1 hour. Words pass between you two, things untangle, relief prevails. And thankful words seal the conversation. It’s back to your peaceful non-existence, then.

Just as you retire to your cocoon, there’s a sharp knock on the door. Bill collection time. Does it have to be today only? Unfortunately, yes. With a little less money and a big bill in hand, you return to your easy chair.

Sitting in your balcony, you relax, enjoying the not-so-fresh air. But still, it feels better than the air floating at office. Out of nowhere, a fast moving item lands on your window. “It’s a six!” What the hell! It’s not a six, it’s a 100. A 100 small pieces of glass lying on the floor. And a cricket ball lazily rolling by the side. So, whom should the broom go to? To one of the little imps or to yourself. That’s a tough one. But broken glass hurts. And so does the broom. Swish, swash, whoosh! In the next 15 minutes, life looks the same. Except for the crack staring in your face from your window. A call for repair. A chore. But it has to be done. 7 digits to be dialed, seven sentences to be spoken. A penalty for a crime not committed by you.

There’s a familiar sound, just then. Who is it? What is it? Oh, it’s your stomach growling. So, it’s lunchtime already. Happiness is fast food and home delivery. That’s some time to yourself. Right?

Weekdays fly and there’s not a moment you get to think. So many things happen, and so many don’t. Only when you reflect back, it looks as though life’s been juggling so many things at one time. Your mind begins its walk down memory lane. And there! To disturb your thoughts, a hammer comes down on a nail, a saw goes through the wood; a drilling machine enters a wall. It’s someone’s dream to beautify their home coming true.  But it’s plain agony for you.

You want to cry, you want to complain. Only you know it’s useless. This fight is endless. The outside world does exist. And it simply won’t vanish. Steal something for yourself, if you can. Or just continue to exist. Live in the world. But in every moment of action, stay still.