Two Windows

It was not the best of times, it was not the worst of times. Often, Ravish had to remind himself that time existed. 

During the days he still wore pants and a watch on his wrist, he would look at the latter to see if he was late for his meetings or not - but never to check that time still continued to slip away along the hands of his dial. Now, with the world appearing to be a desolated version of its former self, Harish did not care to be at the window during sunrise. Neither did he feel the joy of rushing back home to catch the sunset, sitting along the river bank near his home. Time still flowed along the stream which had cleared up due to the absence of humans bathing or washing their clothes in it. But Ravish was now asleep when these times came. Sleep, he had learnt, was the only way he could counter the clutter of his own mind. He was a twenty-seven-year-old engineer, but he thought about many things beyond the job he was lucky to still have. 

It was a few weeks into his self-isolation due to the COVID-19 pandemic when his sleeping pattern turned on its head. He now found neither sleep nor comfort in the dark of the night. He switched off the lights and lay in bed. At first, he tried to resist, wondering why he was not successful in falling asleep like he earlier could. Then, he learnt that struggle was futile in the face of the inevitable. He switched on music by his bedside, tried to practice meditation, and even exercised. But sleep evaded him at night like the people in the market whenever he went out to buy groceries - he had not managed to find a protective mask, after all. 

He now slept in the morning. As a result, he did not grow any dark circles, nor did he feel exhausted. It was only that every time he read the news on his phone or heard it on the television, a sense of hopelessness greeted him. He felt happy during the night. There were plenty of books he had been meaning to read since forever; now he could. 

It was on one such occasion at around two in the morning when he got up from his study table. He yawned, but did not feel like sleepy, since he had become a night owl. He placed the book upside down on his shelf. The story was nearing its climax, but he wanted to read it with a fresh mind in the morning, when natural daylight would greet the pages. For the moment, he entered his kitchen and accessed the alcove. There were enough food supplies to last him the following week, but with no end of the lockdown in sight, he feared going out in public. He poured himself a glass of wine, and settled back at his desk. 

He lived in a complex which housed two buildings facing each other. The space between them was narrow. The apartment Harish lived in, as well as the one in front of him, had a window facing each other - the one he currently sat at. He always drew his curtains to give himself privacy, but opened it now. To his surprise, he found his neighbour working on her laptop at her own desk. 

It was a few seconds later that she looked up, right at him. Looking at one’s neighbour at two in the morning without a reason would not be appreciated in normal circumstances, but the ones which greeted them were nowhere close to being normal. Harish looked away, feeling embarrassed. After a few seconds, he looked at her again. She had gotten up. He thought she would give him a look of distaste before closing her curtains, but she opened her window instead and leaned forward. “The night is beautiful”, she said, looking at the sky. 

There was sleep in her eyes, illuminated by the stars which she gazed at. When he did not say anything, still embarrassed, she smiled at him and waved. Feeling confident, Harish opened his own window. In the dead of the night, they could hear each other even if they talked in a regular tone. 

“Hello… sorry, but I do not know your name,” she said. 

“It’s Harish,” he said, with a smile on his face - his was much more energetic. Nowadays, he felt his best around his time. 

“Ah, Harish it is. A nice name.” The smile lingered on along the edges of her lips. She appeared to be in the state where she could drop off to sleep if someone gave her a bed, but wouldn’t mind staying up further if the occasion demanded it. He looked closer, and made out a bottle of beer in her own hands. The gap between the two of them was close enough for him to reach out with his glass of wine. “Cheers to late night drinks,” he said. She picked up her bottle, and the two glasses clinked. They drank in silence. He did not know much about her except for the fact that she owned a start-up, lived alone, and was in her twenties too. 

After a while, Harish leaned against the railing and said, “I find myself in a similar situation. Your name would be?” 

“Ranjana.” 

“Aha! I’ve seen a few movies where the heroine has that name.” 

“Believe it or not, my father decided it would be mine after watching one of these movies.” 

“That’s nice”, Harish said, taking a sip from his glass of wine. Silence fell into place once more between the two windows. 

“Not much is fun nowadays,” Ranjana said out loud after some time. The way she looked up at the sky told Harish that she was speaking to herself. But he commented nonetheless - “The not much is still worth living for?” 

She looked at him, with a smile of surprise on her face. “That is quite optimistic in the dead of night.” 

Taking another sip from his glass of wine, he said, “Well, it’s early morning for me.” 

She continued looking at the sky, which had cleared up in the recent days. It was a sight of its own, with the ability to look beyond the residual smoke rising from near the riverside workhouses a privilege. For the time being, Harish thought. 

“Well, I usually go to bed by eleven. I am awake today since I needed to submit a few of my documents by tomorrow morning. But I spent the afternoon reading a book instead.” 

Harish nodded. “The lure of books is what kept me awake at first. Now, I spend more waking hours in the dark than with the light.” 

“Well, as long as you stick to a schedule. I am an occasional night owl myself, forced to become one because of how unexpectedly well my business was doing.” She laughed in a carefree manner. He looked at her and realised she did not mean to brag. She was being truthful. “I own a bakery, you see.” 

“You’re lucky to have your own gig. I fear getting laid off if this situation continues for long. Only God knows what I would do if that happens.” 

“The other side’s always greener, I suppose. I am trying to keep up the profile of my own company, but it’s come to a standstill. Delivering to homes won’t be possible unless I tie up with one of the big corporations. My business model is not to do so under any cost, and it was working out for me until this virus hit the town.” 

“No movement is possible, surely that’s affected you?” Harish thought he should have framed the question in a better manner, but again, she did not seem to mind. 

“I am doing my best to adapt. I have started online baking classes. Most of my clients are rich, so supplies are of no problem. Of course, many of them are novices at the work, but I do my best. The income is not as much as before, yet it keeps me afloat." 

“But if you teach your clients how to bake, they wouldn’t come back to you!” Harish said, half-jokingly. She acknowledged the concern. “Perhaps, but one thing I've learnt is that rich people do not have time to cook in usual circumstances. They’re too busy showing off the food instead.” 

There was no hint of contempt in her voice, since possessing one would not allow her to survive in the industry for long. She was merely placing forth her observation. After a few moments, he asked - “So you're staying all by yourself during this time?” 

“Well yes, I am. My parents live in the other part of the country, quite happy to stay in their hometown. But I studied here, got my first job here, and even have my own business. As for a spouse, I’ve never felt the need to have one. I’ve dated people, of course. I used to work in HR for a multinational, so the pool of candidates would have been decent if I ventured.” Both of them laughed. “But I guess I never felt the need to.” 

She looked at him. This time, he was the one lost looking at the sky, with an empty glass in his hand. She said, “Going by your liberal sleeping pattern, even you live alone.” 

“My parents live by themselves. I was apprehensive about them living alone during this time, but they’ve done a good job of it so far,” he said. “As for a spouse, even I’ve not felt the need to have one so far. But I wouldn't mind a girlfriend.” 

# 

He did not have any work to do, and she was willing to delay her own. A conversation as a break from the mundanity of paperwork had always been welcome, after all. He talked about the book which she was reading - he had read it in his college days. It was a classic, but Ranjana had been scared by its size before. Atlas Shrugged, she now realised, was an unexpected page-turner. 

“The fingers get tired when each page leads you to the next for a thousand times,” Harish had said. 

The two talked for more than an hour, with the conversation becoming more intimate than one would have expected. He talked about his young dreams of being an author, and how he was trying his hand at becoming one in the downtime which the situation had granted him. She did not reveal much more about herself, diverting the conversation to the virus. The two of them spent their time talking about general concerns for the world, what they thought would happen, and a mutual yearning to go back to the days when things were mundane. 

The hints of nostalgia were what gave her the lead to talk about herself. She had left a safe career for an adventurous enterprise. Being a woman in any industry was never safe, but it came as more of an advantage in cookery than most places. She had an affinity for cooking since her earliest days. Now, she was following her passion, and making a decent living out of it too. 

Harish, on the other hand, was an integral member of the team which provided telecommunication services. Being a junior, he wasn't the one who called the shots most of the times. He was usually required to give his inputs at the daily video conferences around six in the evening. A few calls were interspersed throughout the day as well. 

“Do you watch movies?” he asked. 

“Netflix is what has been keeping me alive.” 

“It indeed has. Who knew it had so many South Indian movies.” 

“They’ve come to the rescue once I burned through the rest of the catalogue on the app." After thinking about it for a few moments, Harish looked up. “Too bad there’s no one to Chill with.” He laughed to make it seem like a joke. 

“Too bad,” she said, nodding in jest with a smile of her own. 

After the exchange of a few more words, they wished each other good night, drew their curtains and went back to their work. Harish felt energetic enough to pick up his book and finish it. He managed to do so by four in the morning. After that, he fell asleep and woke up only in the afternoon. 

He got up, exercised, made up his room, and took a bath. He started cooking himself a heavy lunch since he had skipped breakfast. It would be enough for two on most days. And as he thought so, a loud sound came from his bedroom. 

With apprehension in his steps, he entered the room. When he opened the window, he saw Ranjana, who must have been knocking on it. “I hope I haven’t disturbed your sleep,” she said. 

“No, luckily I’m awake by now,” he said. “Almost done with cooking my lunch too.” 

“That’s an added bonus then!” She held up a packet he had not noticed till now. “I baked some desert for you, if you do not mind,” she said, and held it out of the window. He reached forward to take it. After taking a peek inside, he smiled at her. “There was no need, this is wonderful,” he said. 

“Well, it’s just an excuse to taste your food. Make me some one day?” 

“You’ll survive it,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I cooked extra today. With the desert substituting in, I’ll pass over some of my food. Unfortunately, it will be in a simple tiffin box, considering I’m no MasterChef.” 

“As long as I survive...” she said playfully. 

“I hope my food did not burn. I’ll have to make a quick entry to the kitchen to check up on it and finish off with the cooking.” 

“See you around,” she said, and waved goodbye. 

He waved at her too, and went back to the kitchen. As he kept the packet on the platform there to free his hands for stirring the vegetables once more, he smiled to himself. He was glad to have found himself a new companion.