On a Fine Morning After a Prolonged Sickness

13Aug07

Not many things keep me away from writing, except when I’m down with a prolonged sickness and start seeing the nine (or is it eight?) planets of the solar system rotating around my head every time I cough – which was pretty much all through the day. So over the past two weeks, whenever the planets were not eclipsing my view of the world, I spent time reading some good old classics.

This morning I took my usual seat holding a sweet smelling copy of Somerset Maugham’s Collected Short Stories and turned to page 193. And when I read the line – Madame Coralie powdered her nose and gave it, a commanding organ, a brief look in her pocket mirror – I noticed two strange men hovering around me. One was an old man who wore his pants above his belly, and the other was a young one with a flashy ponytail. The former sat next to me, while I continued reading as if he were non-existent.

When you start reading alphabets instead of sentences, you know you are actually being engulfed with an irresistible urge to slip into what Freud calls an elevated mental state for disguised fulfillment of our unconscious wish. To you and me it is simply called sleeping. So, watching the morning sky fade into a premature grayscale enveloped by water-laden clouds receding down the horizon, I slowly drifted into a peachy bed of sleep. And then I didn’t know anything that happened.

For example, I didn’t know that the bus was stuck at a signal where there was no signal, that sunlight cracked for a second between the clouds, or that the old man who wore his pants above his belly was playing a game of solitaire in his mobile phone.

I opened my eyes, as it was the most natural thing to do after you are ejected out of the comforts of slumber. I glared at the outside world, where my little slumber didn’t seem to have had any impact. The earth continued to rotate on its axis and men continued to walk on two feet. The sun was not visible, but it was there nevertheless.

The bus screeched to a halt just outside our office after going around the world in sixty minutes. “This is the office?” the old man who wore his pants above his belly asked me. I affirmed and nudged him with my eyes to get down, while I carefully closed the Somerset Maugham taking particular care that I remember the last page I read (because I don’t use bookmarks).

The old man who wore his pants above his belly beckoned his counterpart who smiled a wry smile and went behind him, wagging his ponytail. And I walked away playing a random line from the archives of my memory – The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk alone.

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9 Responses to “On a Fine Morning After a Prolonged Sickness”

  1. Viral infection is all over the place, as you rightly said. And, the worst part of it is that it drains you out. I hope you are on your way back to good health.

    I couldn’t attend the bloggers meet, though I read about it and told myself I must try to make it. Glad to see that Bangalore Mirror covered it. I couldn’t attend for two reason: one, I had to go out of station around that time; and two, office assignments and the piled-up work kept me occupied the rest of the time. I am intersted in being part of the bloggers group; and I hope next time round I would be able to make myself available.

    By the way, I have tagged you, Kishore. I hope you don’t mind. Kindly pick it up, if it’s okay with you. Please click here.

  2. 2 Amrita

    so how are you now? hugs!

  3. umm, take care. By the way, I have done one of your old tags. I am sorry for doing it late. Age is catching up with me.

    Any woman who wore her pants below the belly? :-)

  4. take good care

  5. Interesting :)

  6. 6 Naval

    Nice one..:)

  7. That was a beautiful post. How are you now?

  8. could’nt get it man.. is it abt viral fever or abt the old man who wore his pants too high..?

  9. 9 Shanae

    Word.


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