At least three
months. I hadn’t looked at the fan hanging from the ceiling. The blades have
lost their shine. Who would dare predict its original color? A layer of dirt,
probably with a touch of soot, has clung on to all the three blades almost
equally. Dirt has concentrated along the edges, its thickness consistently reducing
towards the centre. Winter is a good time to reflect on fans!
Certainly a
lifeline in the hot Delhi
summers for those who cannot afford air-conditioners, every effort was made to
ensure that this device never stopped rotating. And now I realize that I didn’t
care to glance at it for all these months because I never needed it, thus
allowing dust to gather around it.
As I write this, my
parents are here on a visit. They have worked hard all these years- before and
after my birth, trying to bring me up with the best they could afford, like
almost every parent in this world. And thus I am not overly grateful to them; it is certainly their duty and I hope to
do it in the same or a better way. But when their greying hairs peek out of the
artificial hair-dyes, they send out a message. All those years they have
provided me fresh air by continuously rotating all day and all night, they have
exhausted themselves and gathered dirt. Like the fan which heats up from
uninterrupted motion, their temper has gotten ‘hotter’. From excessive wearing
out, they sometimes tend to refuse to ‘rotate’. I get irritated. Never did I
try to wipe off that layer of dust and remind myself of the pleasant breeze they
helped me enjoy in summer.
It’s high time I
take up the wiping cloth….
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