Friday, August 03, 2007

Looking for Shelter

The puddles have taken over, the road has given up. There is no sky left. The clouds have control. The rain persists outside the window, minding its business. As I mind mine, absorbed in my work. There are boundaries and we mutually respect each other's space. The rain won't come into my house. I won't step into the rain. We both understand the agreement.

No, wait. It's just me. The rain soon decides to cross the boundaries and enter by the window. Stealthily at first. Little drops that drizzle over the windowsill. Soon, sneakily, the spray slants further in and gets at the bed. I ignore the spray as I feel occasional wet kisses on my knees. But soon, it's time to get up and re-establish some rules. In one smooth, martial arts move, I get off the bed, my legs arcing in the air, hands outstretched. I get to the window and, before the rain knows what hit it, I will have shut it out. Ha.

And then, as I reach out to pull in the window and get my forearms wet, I hear a soft sound. A begging. A plea almost. A soft chirp of token protest. I look up. Perched on the top of the window is a wet, raggedy, dishevelled, bedraggled crow, taking shelter in the downpour. He's looking at me, sizing me up, as he tucks his head closer under his wings for warmth. I waver, my arms still clutching the window latch I'm going to tug at to shut it. We make eye contact. I have a dry home. He doesn't.

I bring in some odd rags and foot-mats to line the windowsill and floor. I move my computer further from the window and get back to work. The crow gets more cosy on his precarious perch. There's room for both of us in this world.


Sandeepa said...

are you back or what ? or is this a French Crow ?

Jason said...

There is space for everyone. We pretend there is none because if we make space, we feel the pinch. The pinch will be soothed by the satisfaction of having made someone a little less miserable by sharing space. Even though the pain of the pinch is miniscule compared to the joy of sharing, we still fear the pinch.

Anamika said...

Sandeepa: The crow was as Indian as they come. I am back!

Jason: Well said. It's as simple as that!

OrangeJammies said...'re such a kind soul! no, really...i mean it!
glad you're back...come, come...we do happy hour and mango bliss cocktails at zenzi!

Sweta Gandhi-Shah said...

room for all..what a lovely thought..and well writ post!

Tharini said...

That was beautiful and descriptive....I could almost feel those raindrops.

It was nice to get into your head for a bit...

Tharini said...

Oh just discovered you are a Sagittarian. My, howthat delights me. You sound so much like one. How's that for a sweeping generalisation. ( one too!)

vin said...

Lovely post. Can I say I detect shades of Bond in it?
Completely agree with Jason's comment.

A Muser said...

That's some lovely writing... Really liked it.

eve's lungs said...

Lovely post Anamika . I liked the photographs you have put up - yes and it is so so easy to be a photographer with digital thingummies - look at the stuff I take with my cellphone camera ! While not being very inspiring I can claim being a photographer !
Thanks for dropping by my blog - and good to know we share Allahabad roots .

Anamika said...

OJ: not a kind soul at all. if that ccrow had flown in and blessed my floor/bed with crow-crap I'd be abusing loud enough for everyone in the blogosphere to read! Just a chance I took!

Sweta: Thanks. I'm going to add you to my blogroll. Anyone who pays compliments gets on there!

Tharini: Plenty of room in my head too, small brain, big head! ;) And what exactly makes me sound like a Saggi? I have heard this before, but never figured out why!

Vin: You may always say you detect notes of Ruskin Bond in my writing. It's a great compliment. (Though he may sue me on IPR!)

A Muser: Thanks for dropping by!

Eve's Lungs: You took all those pics with a phone? They are so clear and well-composed! Thanks for visiting the link I left you!

aunty g said...

SWEET! And "Thank you" from the crow.