I live in a block of flats in Notting Hill, London. Its a beautiful place and for the last nine months that I've spent here, I have been busy noticing every gorgeous detail of life around me. Things have been great, except this tiny hitch.
Every morning at around ten I hear the beep of a transport vehicle, someone asking trivial questions with no reply and then the thud of a closing door ending with the fading sound of a car leaving. And every now and again if I come home early I hear an electronic voice asking someone to hold the line followed by the desperate voice of a woman asking someone why he is calling if everything is okay. Again, with no reply. It goes on for a while until she refuses to pick up again or until i get distracted and stop eavesdropping. Usually the latter.
One morning I ran to my window when the noise came. I saw his back. It was a man in a wheelchair being slowly loaded into a care-home vehicle. He was being asked about how he was, the weather and the mundane fiddle-faddle of daily life. He was giving no response in return.
Later in the week, my landlord came by to tell me there was a leak in my flat that was causing a massive drip in the flat below. The man who lived there had been semi paralyzed thanks to a fall down some steps and is now dependent on care-homes and attendants for every small task. It seemed his caretakers hadn't reacted to the drip for days and the carpet was now soaking wet in most of the corridor. The leak was promptly fixed.
I began to think of him more and more everyday. Should I go and introduce myself. Should I offer any help. Would he actually like to know me? I tried speaking to his caretaker every time I saw her walking in but she would walk past jangling her keys with a stern expression that would nip any question right in the bud.
Then day before, I did it. It was around 5. I walked down the steps and knocked. There was a muffled noise for a response. I yelled who I was and that I only came to say hello. There was no sound for a while and then a regular 'tick' every two seconds. I felt my heart beat faster. It went on for five very long minutes. I decided to yell that I will come back another time and began to leave. I found myself running towards the exit. Then I heard the click of the door latch. My body froze as I turned around.
His eyes were dark hollows with bulging eyeballs peeking from behind the door. My mouth felt numb and I felt my body break into a cold sweat. I had imagined his face many times but I hadnt gone this far.
"Hi, I'm Prachi. I'm your neighbor."
no response. I stammered on obsessively...
"I heard about the leak causing problems, I'm so..s.. sorry to hear it. I hope its fine now."
He murmured a response that sounded like a no problem. Or maybe i imagined so. I dint want to stop talking with the fear that I might focus even more on his face that was emerging slowly from behind the half open door.
"I'm really sorry about it. I hope you dont mind me just dropping by. I.. I just wanted to say hello."
As he murmured another incomprehensible sound and shook his head in slow motion, I realized that he had not been peeking at all. He was merely moving at a slow pace around the door, still edging his way on an electronic crutch of some sort. Something compelled me to focus only on his eyes. His face blurs in my memory but I remember thinking it resembled the walking skeletons of 'The Pirates of Caribbean'. I began to say goodbye and then remembered what I had wanted to say.
"Oh and...I am right upstairs if you need anything. Please feel free to..a ... call... me anytime..."
I hurriedly waved a goodbye and ran out the door.
I felt stupid. How was he supposed to call me? Even if he could, what was he supposed to say? I shudder as I imagine myself in his shoes. I remember baba, my grandfather, and the tears in his eyes during his last days of the paralysis. I dint understand it fully back then and maybe I dont now either. But instantly my knees feel weak at the thought of the forced inability. The sudden shift from a full life to one so dependent and perhaps lonely.
I plan to see him again. I dont know what I will say or do but I know I'd like to let him know I think of him and remember baba.
Every morning at around ten I hear the beep of a transport vehicle, someone asking trivial questions with no reply and then the thud of a closing door ending with the fading sound of a car leaving. And every now and again if I come home early I hear an electronic voice asking someone to hold the line followed by the desperate voice of a woman asking someone why he is calling if everything is okay. Again, with no reply. It goes on for a while until she refuses to pick up again or until i get distracted and stop eavesdropping. Usually the latter.
One morning I ran to my window when the noise came. I saw his back. It was a man in a wheelchair being slowly loaded into a care-home vehicle. He was being asked about how he was, the weather and the mundane fiddle-faddle of daily life. He was giving no response in return.
Later in the week, my landlord came by to tell me there was a leak in my flat that was causing a massive drip in the flat below. The man who lived there had been semi paralyzed thanks to a fall down some steps and is now dependent on care-homes and attendants for every small task. It seemed his caretakers hadn't reacted to the drip for days and the carpet was now soaking wet in most of the corridor. The leak was promptly fixed.
I began to think of him more and more everyday. Should I go and introduce myself. Should I offer any help. Would he actually like to know me? I tried speaking to his caretaker every time I saw her walking in but she would walk past jangling her keys with a stern expression that would nip any question right in the bud.
Then day before, I did it. It was around 5. I walked down the steps and knocked. There was a muffled noise for a response. I yelled who I was and that I only came to say hello. There was no sound for a while and then a regular 'tick' every two seconds. I felt my heart beat faster. It went on for five very long minutes. I decided to yell that I will come back another time and began to leave. I found myself running towards the exit. Then I heard the click of the door latch. My body froze as I turned around.
His eyes were dark hollows with bulging eyeballs peeking from behind the door. My mouth felt numb and I felt my body break into a cold sweat. I had imagined his face many times but I hadnt gone this far.
"Hi, I'm Prachi. I'm your neighbor."
no response. I stammered on obsessively...
"I heard about the leak causing problems, I'm so..s.. sorry to hear it. I hope its fine now."
He murmured a response that sounded like a no problem. Or maybe i imagined so. I dint want to stop talking with the fear that I might focus even more on his face that was emerging slowly from behind the half open door.
"I'm really sorry about it. I hope you dont mind me just dropping by. I.. I just wanted to say hello."
As he murmured another incomprehensible sound and shook his head in slow motion, I realized that he had not been peeking at all. He was merely moving at a slow pace around the door, still edging his way on an electronic crutch of some sort. Something compelled me to focus only on his eyes. His face blurs in my memory but I remember thinking it resembled the walking skeletons of 'The Pirates of Caribbean'. I began to say goodbye and then remembered what I had wanted to say.
"Oh and...I am right upstairs if you need anything. Please feel free to..a ... call... me anytime..."
I hurriedly waved a goodbye and ran out the door.
I felt stupid. How was he supposed to call me? Even if he could, what was he supposed to say? I shudder as I imagine myself in his shoes. I remember baba, my grandfather, and the tears in his eyes during his last days of the paralysis. I dint understand it fully back then and maybe I dont now either. But instantly my knees feel weak at the thought of the forced inability. The sudden shift from a full life to one so dependent and perhaps lonely.
I plan to see him again. I dont know what I will say or do but I know I'd like to let him know I think of him and remember baba.
