By Tiruvarur Vikram
Routines!!! He was a man of one. Woke up at 7AM, cigarettes at 7 15 followed by breakfast at 8, left the house by 8 30. Started work by 9 and was done by 5 PM. Reached home by 6, cigarette at 615 and dinner by 9. The news went on till 11 PM, three rounds of whisky post that and passed out at 11 45 PM. The man never made it till midnight. Not even on his birthdays when his sister and that one childhood friend called him at 12 AM. Rumour had it that the man had never smiled.
In the middle of June, another mundane day passed by, the routine went on till 11 PM. It was time for his usual three rounds. He had his three rounds but something wasn’t right, he couldn’t sleep. The man had no idea what was happening. It was 11 45. He stared at the bottle wondering if there was a problem with the liquor but it was the same bottle he had yesterday. This was uncharted territory for the man and he was overwhelmed. It was 11 55 PM and he decided to have another round. For the first time in 30 years the man had a fourth round and just as he placed his glass down after drinking the last sip, the clock struck midnight.
He felt something new, far better than what a morning coffee or the puffs from his cigarettes ever made him feel. He felt alive when the rest of the city slept. He got down to business, didn’t want to let the time slide. He uncovered a new angle and approach to problem solving and had the answers to everything but first he needed to spend his new found energy. And what better way to do that but dance, he engaged in what modern contemporaries would call freestyle. At the moment the man felt he understood fluidity and biomechanics as he danced in his bedroom, his every swirl and move matched the music in his head. .He felt much like a god.
He sat down to process the god like power he just received. It was 2 AM. Nothing but darkness outside. He placed a call to his friend and then his sister to share this new found power. To his avail, they both don’t pick up. The man while having stayed committed to the routine never once called them in the past.
With this newfound enlightenment and energy the man started to think and reflect, something that he never did for a long time and wept at the overwhelming feeling. He felt lost now. He deeply regretted the life he lived, the opportunities he never took, and the relationships he never held on to. The passion he never pursued. He took out his canvas at 3 AM, took 15 minutes to clear the years of dust that had accumulated on it. He stared at the blank canvas and visualized the image that he so clearly wanted to paint. He sat and painted. As the clock was approaching 6 AM and just when he was completing the final brushes to his painting, he dozed off.
The next day
The neighbours knock but to no avail, the police get alerted, they knock the door, proceed to break it. Family is alerted. His sister arrives, finds her brother lying dead and his painting next to him. She examines the painting and finds a scene of their childhood with their parents. It was a painting of their usual Sunday routine of sleeping in and playing around in the afternoon painted to vivid detail. She wept heavily and took a look at the body of her brother once again. She stooped weeping for a second to notice a faint smile that her brother had died with and broke into further tears again.
By Tiruvarur Vikram
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