Earphones | Shivangi Adatia

Shivangi Adatia

On some days
I go up to the terrace and
put my earphones on
not to
listen to Bon Iver or Lennon
but to
listen to the wind
why the earphones you’ll ask
but I have no answer
I don’t know why I do that
On these days,
again, for reasons unknown
I spin
sometimes with my arms stretched out and sometimes not,
sometimes looking up and sometimes down,
I spin
I physically spin
till I feel light enough to fly and dizzy enough to sit
and because I can’t fly,
I sit and
I listen to the wind
with my earphones on
I listen to the sound that the leaves of the palash tree make when the wind violently wakes them up, helped by the birds who return to their spots after a long day and discuss all the gossip from work
I listen to the distant noise from streets – the car horns and the dengue campaign jingles and occasional ambulance sirens and the sexist abusive slangs used by the children playing in the parks
I listen to the sound I make while breathing,
it is urgent and desperate in the beginning and becomes relaxed and almost peaceful with time
why the earphones you’ll ask
but I have no answer
I don’t know why I do that
On these days,
after I have listened enough
I lay down on the floor
and stare at the skies
clouds or no clouds, birds or no birds
i stare
till all I can see is the blue mixing with the hues of orange and pink, melting into a shade no oil pastel set has ever had
I stare till the rest is blurred
till I cannot distinguish the sounds anymore
till all is just background noise
till even this background noise fades
I stare with my earphones still on
I make up stories in my head
I replay incidents,
sometimes just as they were and sometimes with plot twists
and I dream about things that I know will never happen
and when knowing this becomes too overwhelming,
and when I can see the colours separately again,
I start playing songs

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