Silent Night, My Window and the Pianist

Ketaki Datta

Ketaki Datta

All lights down the street snuffed out, the moonshine took the thoroughfare in a light embrace. It seemed as though the stretch of the macadam wanted to go naughty in another's lap, shunning its usual companion, the three-pronged light-stands. In the vicinity, a pianist went striking the tear-jerking notes on his [may be ‘her’ as well] instrument, caressing each key with his tears! The lizard which held its gaze firm on a tiny insect, stirred a bit. The dog which lay on the threshold seemed to be nudged out of his slumber. Only a madman rent the air with his loud cry, "Hey you, you darkness, why are you silent as a dumb underdog? I want light, hey you blockhead!" The light breeze eased off the day's ennui, yet his drivel went on uninterrupted. I looked at the clock that ticked above my head. I walked off to the terrace adjacent to my room for a breather and believe me, I was being drowned by the magic charm of Mozart's "Rondo Alla Turca"...I was falling head over heels in love with the pianist whose fingers kept weaving patterns of magic in the air…I closed my eyes...the piano went on inundating the darkness with its pulsating vibes, I was being lost in the maze of the notes, I was being rocked in the crests and troughs of the rain-drenched earth, as though I was being rocked in the Noah's Ark, along with the animals and other creatures. The mesmerizing music seemed to shove the whole universe to the edge of a deluge, I moved forward with the Ark, that floated like a dot in the ocean! I should be salvaged by the grace of God, the musical notes would be my saviour!

Do..re...mi...fa...so...la...ti...do…

 The lunatic wanted light to be there and there was light! Had he changed place with God? Was that at all possible? I kept wondering while the pianist was switching the tune to “Somewhere my love, there will be songs to sing…” I was contorting my body according to the crest and fall of Lara’s theme. The window through which the musical notes were being wafted, seemed to be the casement to the Heavens, where all piety found manifestation in prayers, where all songs were being elevated to the summum bonum of all human existence on earth. The window transported me to another reality where I could envisage a sliver of the astral body that would possibly collide with earth, driving the whole civilization to the brink of extinction, I could visualize a night hundred years down the line, when the generation would hate talking to each other, perhaps they would be communicating in a sign language. I could imagine similar such snippets of the future, in which the society would settle for AI at every turn of life, at every moment man would seek the company of a robot or a portable AI-body which would cater to his emotional needs. I was throwing my glance far-off and kept looking at a flicker of light far beyond the acre of green grass, that lay stretching at the back of my apartment. It might be a meteor fallen just then, emitting light and waiting for its ultimate journey to nullity.

 When I was engrossed in visualizing all such mentally-constructed images, the pianist had suddenly switched to lalalalla—la-la-la-la, Come September tune, oh my my,my favourite tune! I jigged my knees to the tune, till it made way to my ears and then I was thinking of the darkness that enveloped us and its mystery. Darkness itself seemed to be a mystery. Darkness could drive us mad with its stygian blackness, with its deliberate annulling of light, with its decisive propensity to prolong its span of existence. Darkness was there outside the window, though my room was flooded with streaks of light, crisscrossing each other in a curious abandon. I was being intrigued to know who the pianist was and immediately the song by Phoebe Bridgers [played by him/her] barged in and filled my room…

“Somewhere in Germany, but can’t place it

 Man, I hate this part of Texas

 Close my eyes, fantasize

 Three clicks and I am home, 

When I get back I’ll lay around 

And I’ll get up and lay back down

Romanticize a quiet life

There’s no place like my room!”…

I found myself tapping my feet on the floor and dancing in mad joy!

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Setu, February 2025