Sunday, October 13, 2013

French Windows

A couple of years ago, I used to ride to work on chilly mornings at 6:30 and annoy the hell out of everyone. Why? I was annoyingly happy. I loved my life in the house which I shared with a thirty something woman. She travelled a lot and was hardly there. I had the entire house for months at a time. Top floor house, it was. Nice view of the neighbourhood. Quiet and lonely up there. I had my very own room, a narrow but fully functional kitchen and the hall which had long French windows right next to the door.
I remember how excited I was when I got a refrigerator and paid for it myself. It was my very own fridge. It was small and red. I made sangria.
I started learning a new language. I downloaded audio lessons. I cleaned and repeated weird sounding words after the guy on the tapes. I cooked dinner. Tried my hand at new recipes. Treated myself to yummy food. I went out walking in the evenings. I remember the rains and the skies the best. Monsoon. Chilly weather. I sometimes met up with a friend or two for dinner or coffee.
I remember one late evening when there was a heavy downpour and the lights went out. There was thunder. Loud. I took my veena, sat down in the hall, faced the windows and played for hours. I didn’t have a candle. Or a torch. Longest I have ever played. I was happy.

But I didn’t make just sangria. I experimented with white rum. Miniatures stocked up. I had a wine bottle always tucked away in the bottom most compartment of my cupboard. My nights were a routine of having a couple of glasses with a movie or a sitcom. But I did wake up every day at 5:30, all by myself, to go work. Every single work day. All charged up to irritate people during breakfast on the top floor.

Long time back, it all seems. 2013 has been a horrible year so far. Right from January. I do have French windows here as well but the view isn’t that great, and a roommate who is absent on some days.
I am no longer annoyingly happy. No miniatures stocked up. They don’t help anymore.