The Stunt I Pulled

First things first, I suck as a blogger.

Not as a writer, mind you. But blogger.

I violated perhaps the most fundamental rule of blogging; that of not being regular.

‘Most’ fundamental because apparently, little else about the blogging culture is. One needs little more than a valid email address and a coherent chain of thoughts to start blogging, although in the current scheme of things, even the latter stands to question.

Anyway, I do owe my inner child an apology for not being (more) indulgent.

So basically, about 3 months ago, what can probably be called the most stressful period of my life, started with little warning.

The house was undergoing massive renovation and revamping, and for better or for worse, I found myself at the steering wheel of this rickety ship, caught in a storm with gale force winds; a ship that has been threatening to keel over to either side and be blown to smithereens ever since.

I’m designing. Choosing. Buying. Fighting. Mediating. Managing. Everythinging. Ugh.

Almost all changes being incorporated in this renovation are functional and practical, and helping the house perform better, in some way or the other.

Except for one.

At whim, I broke a wall of my room and made this large sit-out window, shattering all general notions of privacy and security. Bam!

A lot of questions were asked.

Eyebrows raised at the free-wheeling expenditure. The idea of this unshakeable monolithic glass piece as a window to a young woman’s bedroom.

“How will we haul the glass up? Clean kaise karenge?”

“The neighbour’s servants will spend more time on their balconies now, you see, just to catch a glimpse.”

“Waterproofing! Baarish mein seelan?”

“Yeh toh peechey wali gali ki side hai!”

“What is the need?”

I pulled together my troops and devised strategies for everything. Everything! Pushed through with the decision with all my might (and stubbornness).

What is the need, indeed.

*Sigh*

It’s done, now. And every day, for the past month, I have woken up to swaying eucalyptus trees; the sight of monkeys scurrying around in the abandoned, inaccessible overgrown and ripe green DDA land, my room flooded with morning light.

Sometimes at night, I spot owls in the trees.

When it rains, I can hear the wind in the leaves and dense thickets; it reminds me of the mountains I so love.

I've even constructed a low seat to make it laze-with-a-book-worthy (though I haven't run that mattress errand, yet).

It is my one, constant, never-disappointing source of happiness. :)

Sometimes, it's so good to just tap that instinct and stick with it.

Thank God I'm an Architect.

P.s. The glass did get hauled up; it has a corner hatch for ventilation; it gets cleaned with ease every day, and not a drop of water has percolated into the plaster; bless those Western Disturbances.

And the neighbour’s servants?

Roller blinds, bitches.

Rawr.