Closed Window

Closed Window

I woke up on the sound of fluttering wings of a bird. I opened my eyes, it felt like it was around almost noon, a bit hot.

The room had windows on 3 sides of it, completely. It was a balcony converted into a room. I had accidentally left one of the windows open before I felt asleep. I was stoned and high last night, I don’t even recall what time I slept. There was a pigeon trapped inside my room. It couldn't manage its way out, from the same way it came in - an open window. It didn't seem to know that there was a window open. All of the window had tinted glass. Tinted enough to let the sunlight in. The bird didn't seem know how "transparency" works, obviously. It flew directly towards a random window, hoping it was open, but banged its beak against the glass and fell back on the room floor. There is something wrong with their vision. This damn thing wasn’t going to go. It spoiled my sleep. I kept staring at for about 5 mins. After that, I learned my lesson.

—- 24 hours back.

- “Venkat, the results are out man. What are you doing here in the canteen”?
- “Want a chai”?
- “Dude, the 4th sem results are out on the bulletin board, I am going there. Hurry up man. See you there.”

I turned back, paid him for the chai (tea), took the glass and stood there sipping the hot tea. Thoughts started pouring in. I was a bit anxious, but after attempting the 4th sem exams for the 3rd time, I had lost my anxiousness of wanting to know the results. My palms started sweating a bit, as I sipped the chai. I took out a loose cigarette from my shirt pocked, lit it — to calm me down. It did. After about 7 minutes and 20 drags, I started walking towards the bulletin board inside the main building. There were people standing outside, laughing. They had made it. They were planning for the night already. Two girls were trying to consolidate a third, holding her shoulders as she almost sobbed. There was a gathering around the bulletin board. The fonts were damn small, I couldn’t see it from this far behind. Suddenly, Ramu came out from the crowd, I saw his face. He took a took a deep breath and blew it out, like a relief.

“Dude I made it, just scraped through. Your role number is 112 right?” — he asked.
“Yeah”
“Abe, tu he dekhle (have a look yourself)”.

I could judge from his voice. I pushed my way through everyone to the bulletin board.

“roll number 90, roll number 98, 100, 108, 110, 111, 112"
“F”

Fluid Mechanics 23/100
Algebra and Number Topology 36/100
Computational Topology 30/100
Advanced Solid Mechanics 35/100
Lab I 28/50
Lab II 30/50

“Fuck.”

I came out of the crowd, without even looking into anyone else’s face. I started walking towards the stairs, Ramu put his hand over my left shoulder. “I am sorry man.”

“Why the hell are you sorry?”, I said.

I knew why he felt sorry. We had studied almost every subject together. The evenings and late nights we spent in his room solving sums. Aunty’s khichdi were awesome. She also gave us coffee so that we stayed awake to study. I didn't even own a Halliday Resnik Walker book. We had mugged all formulas, as many as we could and quizzed each other. Somehow, I was good at it when we were rehearsing. I don’t know what the fuck goes wrong in the examination hall. I think its Shah sir’s freaking angry ugly face while he was inspecting the hall. Or probably, Anita’s beautiful hair falling down, covering half her face from across 2 benches from me. Maybe I read too much Tintin before the exams. Thundering Typhoons.

“I am done with this shit. Kallu, is going to detain me.”, I said as I sat on the stairs.

Kallu — Mech department dean.

Ramu just stared at me, after a minute he spoke — “I think you are trying too hard man. Think it over. Maybe you are good at something else. Maybe you are just stuck here, for someone reason, where as you should be there in the concerts. Go and get back to your band. Do that for life and never look back. Look it as an open window. Somethings are just meant to be. So what if you are not a fucking mechanical engineer. You can be a fucking awesome guitarist man. Don’t try so hard at something you are not good at. Just leave it. Don't waste your time over it man, seriously.”

That last line, it hurt me. I am not good at it. Maybe I should accept it, maybe I should give it one more, one last chance. Maybe I should stop thinking. I got up walked towards my hostel room.

“I ll see you tomorrow, I am going to my room. I’ll call you from outside your building in the evening. Bye.” and without saying anything else I left.

That night, was the longest night I remember. I had 4 glasses of old monk and a joint — all by myself. I had never done that before. I passed out without even realizing. I just wish I had “passed” the exam instead of “passing” out. The next morning, that idiotic bird woke me up.

“Why can’t the bird see the open window and understand that it cannot get through a closed window?”

Fin.