A day in life of a flinging window shutter

[ Fiction ]

Someone forgot to latch me before leaving home long long time back. They haven't come back in years and I am afraid myself and this entire home is abandoned. My young thought then was that they are going for a long vacation; now I think who has time for their rusty roofs and old windows in their country home?

The stopper is down, preventing me to fit in my place by chance either. Flinging between the outer wall and my own frame has been the only certainty of life ever since they've gone. Crying hinges, joint-loosening smacks and shakeups in merciless winds is my new existence. Dust and dirt make their way through me into their home and unsavory eyes and intensions glimpse through me onto the desolate floor of their home.

Someone watches me from the opposite balcony in every summer vacation. That is the only solace of silent summer afternoons while getting baked and seeing my paint layers curve and peel off.

But today...it is that time of year again. There is electricity in the atmosphere. The air has gotten wet and confused. After an afternoon of directionless weak turbulences, I am calling for a downpour full of conviction.

And it seems to have begun. The drops that started their journey from high above are caught in cunning surprise mid-air by opportunistic gusts of wind hijacking them for a wild ride down to earth. I see myself and the ground below smiling at this play. People are out in their balconies and evening plans are changing in homes around me.

The next morning:

Last few drops are running off my corner from the last night's rain. The dust has settled; there's mud on the house floor and I am calm. The air is steady and the star has risen and is on its way to midheaven making today what promises to be a glorious day with bright clouds floating in the sky.

Get-together

Sun seems to be rising fast today behind that abandoned house across the street. The morning is alive with anticipation. It is a new year day and soon the house will fill with loved ones, aunts, uncles, cousins and those who you don't know much about but they seem to know you very well. I am enjoying last few minutes of entire swing to myself and grandmother is preparing tea in a big vessel. Grandfather seems to be in good mood outside in drawing room; he is talking with someone in English and his forceful interjections are very new and awe-inspiring to my little ears.

Soon the house will ring with harmonious laughters and frolics of shared ancestry. Similar faces and exquisite cloths. Why that aunt cuddles me so hard? Why that uncle always scares me first and why that cousin fights with me all the time? I don't know, but I like them all. I like each and everyone of them in unique ways and they all love me very much.