The Stare

As Bisman and Soohab slipped into a slumber, I stopped serenading them with my rendition of Channa Mereya. I got down on the wobbly sofa-bed mattress on the floor with Harpreet. And we stared at the ceiling. 

I know it sounds cliched, but she asked me.. what are you thinking? I said I am imagining that there is no ceiling, but we are out in the open and looking at the stars. Instead of floor, we were on lying on the grass. Maybe it was the lawn near NSIT canteen. She laughed. And then without a warning, she fell asleep. 

Truth be told, I wasn’t thinking about the stars. It was just the ceiling. When am aware of it, I look at its familiar pattern at the edges. I can see the marks where the cement was flattened out using a beam. The room has changed, yet it is the same ceiling I have been staring at since 23 years. 

We have removed the chandelier like fan as it induced a fan-fall phobia in me. If that didn’t cure it completely, mom’s shifting of our bed totally against the wall helped. As I write, Bisman turned and rested her back against me. I noticed they look like salt-pepper shakers from behind. Lol.

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