Every evening on her way back home from work she’d cross the house with the red blinds. At this sight, her hurried journey back home would suddenly acquire a different character…forcing her to break out of her preoccupations. Overcome by intrigue she’d let her imagination run. What was that veil concealing?
She had seen such scarlet-lit rooms earlier… fluttering curtains fighting against the breeze to hold their own …standing still long enough to conceal…protect…and then sway mischievously to tease the on-lookers’ imagination.
She’d slow down her steps, trying to steal as many glances at the window and the life within. On many occasions she had seen the shadow of a rather tall man. Going by his stature she had first pegged his age around 30, though his measured…careful walk around the house signalled someone older. Sometimes she had even seen the silhouette of what looked like young woman. What was she doing there? What if he was taking advantage of her…the poor thing? Exploitative B*^4#*d! She would seethe with anger at the very thought.
Then one day…overcome by her self-righteousness…or maybe just plain curiosity – she charged up to that house and knocked! Waiting in front of that door her thoughts ran into a frenzy…is this a mistake…what if he is a serial womanizer…a molester. It was too late to be thinking these thoughts. The door opened and on the other side stood a rather gentle looking middle-aged man. But this looks like a decent man. Half relieved-half surprised she didn’t know what to say.
Er…are you looking for someone…he asked.
She mumbled…I’ve recently moved to the neighbourhood…just thought I should get to know people around here.
He showed her in and shut the door. She heard the clang of the cowbell hung to the doorknob. Following him in - she moved her attention between him and around the house. Nothing about this place seemed unsafe or creepy though there was something weird about the way he walked. Something that suggested that he was strange in his own house. Inside…the house was sparse…little furniture…a lot of white space. Except the blinds…those looked a little blaring and out of sync with the rest of the room.
They spoke for a while…exchanged notes on…where she had come from…what he did for a living. She learnt that he was a piano teacher at the primary school. All through the conversation she couldn’t help but wonder…there was something about this place, which was not usual though she couldn’t put her finger on it. Why hasn’t he turned on the lights in the room…she wondered? Maybe he’s just trying to save on electricity…there’s enough natural light in the room.
Something jumped at her and she stood up in reaction…I must be going before it gets dark.
I am sorry Ms…I haven’t been able to offer you anything. I’ve run of tea and haven’t been able to go to the grocer yet.
Oh no…don’t bother yourself…perhaps another time
It was good that you could stop by. I hardly have any visitors.
Just as she was about to step out of that room…she turned around and remarked…your blinds
Oh aren’t those lovely? They have those little chimes hanging from them...I just heard those and had to buy them. Excuse me if they look dusty…I wouldn’t be able to see. A lady comes to clean every now and then…she hasn’t been coming you know…
All of a sudden the pieces came together in her mind…why the lights weren’t turned on…the number of bells and chimes in the house…his cautious movement.
Shocked at the putridity of her own thinking…she muttered…those blinds…those look really beautiful!
