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THE WINDOW
She stood in her room and kept looking out the window. Today, unlike the other days the scenery outside the window was more beautiful. The leaves of the trees were shining, the people walking on the roads looked a bit happier and cars moved a little faster. The pace of the cars seemed perfect. Neither irritatingly fast nor unbearably slow. The people seemed perfectly happy. Neither too excited nor too bored. The scene outside her window looked like a perfect description of a beautiful scenery in a small town which one could only dream of. Calm and peaceful but not scary. She wondered if she always lived in such a beautiful place or was it at such special occasions like today, did everything look so beautiful. She realized that one needs a certain mood to look and appreciate the beauty that has always been present in their life. Everything sounded so dramatically beautiful. She giggled, stood on her toes and turned around. If she had a device to store feelings or a certain scene she would have done that at that particular moment. Store it somewhere and experience it when she was sad but then how could she experience something so happy when she was sad? She again giggled and kept staring outside the window to see if there was something new outside that she ignored earlier. She looked at the dog sitting in the car, sticking its head outside the window and looking out. For some reason, she couldn't stop smiling, she simply wanted to jump outside the window and run on the road or better, compete with the running cars. If not anything, at least the idea sounded fascinating. She opened the window, one step and she could be out of the room and probably even compete with the bikes or cars.She closed her eyes.
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She put her pen down and yawned. Strangely she wasn't even ready to re-read the paragraphs that she had just written, describing a perfect scene outside the window. She was bored and strangely she wasn't even ready to do things to keep her boredom away for some time. All she did was things that only intensified her boredom. She sometimes wondered if she liked to drown in her own boredom. Early in the morning, she woke up and looked outside the window. There was something outside which she felt like describing in words. The scenery outside was somewhat similar to what she had described in the little paragraph that she wrote. They were dogs, road, and vehicles but there was tiny difference. She was told that there would be some construction work that would start on the empty site the last month but then nothing started and the empty site soon became a garbage park where people from the neighborhood dumped all their garbage. Every morning when she woke up and looked outside the window, she always saw a dog searching for some items in the garbage. The range of the garbage was so huge. One could find items ranging from food to electronic devices lying there. When she had nothing to do, she usually stared at the dump and tried to recognize the items. Sometimes the exercise turned gross i.e. when her eyes caught some disgusting items. The images of the disgusting items played in her head like a slide show the rest of the day disturbing her but sometimes if she was lucky enough she even found badly broken toys, crushed papers and old cassettes with tangled reels lying on the ground which made her nostalgic. She always pitied the person who would have to clean the place. He would be disgusted, irritated, bored, excited and nostalgic all at the same time.
However, when she decided to describe the picture outside the window, she found it difficult to do and then she ended up describing the scenery that was hanging on one of the patched rooms of her room. The only difference was the picture looked lonely and scary whereas the scene outside the window had cars and people moving around which made it look less scary. She sometimes thought she was a writer whereas all she did was described everything as perfect and beautiful. Neither she was aware of more words nor was she passionate enough to make it make it interesting or nice or beautiful. She somehow found that word safer as it had an expression of limitlessness attached to it. Sometime later, she gathered courage to re-read the paragraph and yawned. It was indeed boring with no head or tail. She had no intentions of completing the story or giving it a proper 'ending' and hence it would remain incomplete as many other stories of hers. But she didn't fail to wonder if the incompleteness was a result of her lack of imagination or insight less boredom or something else, a feeling which made her happy by leaving those stories unfinished. She again looked out the window and suddenly her eyes fell on a fresh item that probably got dumped a few minutes ago which showed her future. She was soon going to fall ill. She was suddenly scared, what would have happened if there was no window to divide her from the ocean of dump? She was thankful to the window which separated her from the dangerous dump but till when? It would make her sick sooner or later.
Anupamaa
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