Sunday, August 14, 2005

An Evening at Home

I open the front door and smile . Into the living room, a door on the left leads off to the kitchen while the evening from the balcony seeps in, soft and easy. I hesitate to walk in, lest I should disturb the tranquility of this space with my relief.

I shut the door gently behind me, drop my bag on the dining table in the corner, my shoes on the stand next to it, and go into the kitchen. Soon enough, the brisk smell of lemon tea and a cigarette fills the house. I put on Fields of Gold and make my way to the balcony to watch the city, spread out beneath me, going about its business. There is nothing here except the enormity of the twilight and I. Comfortable in our silence, old bedfellows are we.

Almost instantly, my arrogance is shattered by a small movement in the far corner of my eye. I look leftward to watch a bat glide with grievous beauty into the deepening evening. Presumably it was in search of food or some company. Or perhaps, both. It is an envious, gentle smile that curves my mouth.

I turn around to flip the switch for the uplighter in the balcony. A whisper of yellow floods the room, lighting up its corners and lines. A couch, a mattress clothed in earth tones lives on the left (or the right, depending from where you see it). It serves double duty when a friend stays over.

Two overstuffed pillows sit companionably across the wicker table that separates them from the mattress. A charpai stool resides between the pillows. Under the glass top, an exquisite pillowcase is a red-toned patchwork of mirrors. It is a reminder of the endless frustration I endured while picking it out with him. It is also a reminder of the delight, of the joy we share.

I look towards the frames on the wall - a favourite etching from a friend, jigsaws put together while studying for a GRE long ago, some Van Gogh (my aspiration to high art) - and then sweep towards the bookshelf that stands faithful, a little ahead of the couch. The book I bought yesterday crooks a seductive finger which I resolutely ignore.

The colours of my home wash over me, soothing, comforting, on my way back to the kitchen to start dinner.

My kitchen. The greens and yellows of this one of my favourite places welcome me and my evening reverie. Soup, chicken, sauteed vegetables and bread, I decide, will make up this evening's fare. Within minutes, the aroma and sounds of dinner fill the spaces in the house. A few minutes later, I turn off the stove to go into the bedroom.

The table lamp I switch on provides a subtle yellow light as I pick my way through the debris. The bed against the far wall bears loud witness to the fact that we were late for work this morning. I spend ten minutes picking up towels and toiletries carelessly cast aside, shutting wadrobe doors and going through the motions of restoring order. The books on the bedside table are unsurprisingly unaffected. I spend another five minutes preparingto wash the day off me.

In twenty minutes, I emerge from the bathroom, feeling mellow and refreshed. I have a message on my cellphone. Reading it, I move back out into the living room. Fields of Gold is still playing as I begin to the set the table for dinner.

I have been waiting barely five minutes when the doorbell rings. I open the front door and smile.


Nee kosam. Ila jaragaka poyina.


Yours Truly...Conman said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
100hands said...

strained, yes, at times.

Extempore said...

@Conman: The last time I checked this was my blog and I was free to write the way I pleased. You're entitled to your opinions.

@100 hands: Thanks for the tip. Will try and bear it mind. :)

Yours Truly...Conman said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
the cowlick said...

Sounds like you love your time alone at home when you get back from work :)

Extempore said...

@Cowlick: Thanks sweetie, for understanding. :)

Yours Truly...Conman said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

Right now, I don’t feel like being here alone any more. Cause if nothing has made me realize what sort of a ch...ya decision I took, ur blog did it. I know that every trouble would have been worth to do what u wrote.

with all my apologies and love...

muah.. p

incognito said...

Very descriptive.

You have a talent for writing with your pictures and drawing pictures in your writing.

luz de la luna said...

Thanks for the visit to my blog! I do hope you will come visit again!

Upon visiting your blog I got lost in your beautiful words. You write extremely well.

I loved the writing here in this post. You transported me there to the colours and the peace.

- Martin

lakesidey said...

Jigsaws while studying for the GRE. And here I thought you were taking it seriously and all. Jeez....

Having said which, very nicely written (smoke notwithstanding;)

Extempore said...

@Anon: Like Robert Jordan loves to say, "The Wheel of Time wills as the Wheel will." You and I can live in the hope of another time, another space and some other earthtones. :)

Extempore said...

@Luz de la Luna: Thanks very much for your visit to my blog. I do hope you will come back. :)

I am glad you like this piece... it means so very much to me.

@Lakesidey: Am so glad you liked it, old friend. *hug*

Geetanjali said...

Nice...very much so! Loved the description of the house as you move through's like following a camera...and the narrative has a warm flow to it!

Shall be back for more:-)

luz de la luna said...

Thanks, I will visit again. I added you to my links :-)

- Martin

Anonymous said...

@Conman: Before you use such strong adjectives as "pathetic" to dismiss other people's writing, please take a look at your own writing. My anonymous comment is at the end of the first chapter of your novel Again on again-anovel.blogspot.

If you seriously believe that writers should write the way they speak, I suggest you begin by improving your speech. How about looking up the difference between "advice" and "advise", for instance?

Well, I admit I got rather nasty there, but come on, if everyone wrote exactly the way they speak, there would be no special value to writing, and by implication reading!

Experimentation is essential to learning the craft of writing, and I think extempore is doing just fine.

@extempore: Keep it up! [Though in a year or so I hope you will start going easy on the adjectives.] :)

Yours Truly...Conman said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
wanderer said...

LOL. This is hilarious. Conman, I am going to use your novel as toilet paper. Sorry, but that's all it seems worth to me.


Extempore said...

@Luz de la Luna: Martin, thanks! That's so nice of you. :)

@Geetanjali: Thanks very much. Am glad you liked it and I do look forward to "seeing" you again. :)

@Anon aka NJ: Well, thanks for the input but I used my adjectives to paint a picture and I am not sure if I agree that I need to go easy on them.

@The world at large: Can we pls stick to the topic/post at hand? :)

Yours Truly...Conman said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Yours Truly...Conman said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Words Worth said...

ha ha ha ha hee hee hee hee ha ha ha ha hee hee hee hee ha ha ha ha... and some more!!

(You still love me, don't you?

That apart. There's a Norah Jones song that goes:

"If I were a painter
I would paint my reverie
If that's the only way for you to be with me"

You're a really good painter. :-)

(now i'm sure you love me.

SaidBack said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Extempore said...

@The world at large: I have removed some posts that I thought had nothing to do with the spirit or the point of this post.

Pls guys, this is not a forum for people to pick fights.

@Pepper: I agree with what you are saying... "It all depends on what you're trying to draw the readers attention to, what you're trying to say... or, the way you're saying it."

Thanks, Majesty. :)

i-me-moi said...

i noticed the colors. and i noticed the balcony. i noticed cozy. and i noticed the meaning of "home" stretched to mean what it should. in words. you captured it. everything a solo tripper on earth would die for and love to possess. and i noticed the red mirrors in patchwork. wat a colorful life you have, and the colors are so mine :-)

SaidBack said...

How about a nice picture of your place to go along with this post?

Extempore said...

@Wordsworth: I love you regardless of your nonsense and nastiness! :P

@Sprechen: Am so glad you see it. In this, "You and I, we be of one blood" -- Jungle Book, Rudyard Kipling

@Pepper: Majesty, it is because I don't have a physical picture to share with you, I made one with words. But soon, really soon. :)