There amidst those small, middle-class houses and huts stands a mini-palace. Huge walls protect it, gardens add beauty to the surroundings, the maali is working to further improve it. The central three-storied concrete structure is huge, though not very good looking. People passing it look at it with envy. I, the invisible, enter into this house.
Ground floor: Wife and husband are in a heated conversation. Gossiping about the brother living in the First floor. Sarcasm, and dislike flame the conversation. When the heat becomes unbearable, I run up the steps to the First Floor. But I find, the door to the First floor is boarded. Invisible, but burning in the flames, I run out. There behind the house, an add-on staircase to the first floor. The staircase, the standing, rising symbol of disagreement. But what is interesting is the another staircase close-by, this one leading to the Second Floor, another symbol. I don’t try climbing up because I can see the flames above, through the open windows. That may even be my imagination, but the heat is real. I jump over the wall of the villa and escape to the huts, where brothers don’t disagree. But even there, do I find harmony? Monday, April 15, 2002
