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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