The Night of Happenings

Credits: Siddhant Rajadhyaksha NOT FOR REPRODUCTION

Credits: Siddhant Rajadhyaksha
NOT FOR REPRODUCTION

The Night of Happenings

There was a sharp sound in the dead of the night. The wind chime sounded melodious. A swift breeze had set it in motion. The chime’s melody bounced around the extremely spacious hall of the house. It was chilly.

I got up and checked outside. It was a starry night. It was a cold night. It was a clear, pure and heavenly night. And we were right in the middle of it.

So I suggested my friends, the Mansion Man, the Train Fanatic and Mr Sherlock X to head up to the terrace to look at the sky. That beautiful, star-spangled and clear sky. Its vastness looming overhead.

The four of us climbed the steps, the excitement palpable. The house, this beautiful house owned by Mansion Man’s parents, was an architectural beauty. It had big, airy rooms (yes, multiple), its location was perfection, it had two terraces and multiple bathrooms too and most of all, it was situated facing a fantastic scenery. We passed the two bedrooms on the next floor (it was a one storeyed house) and we picked up our coverings. I needed two jackets and socks because of the extreme temperatures. My fellow friends were fine with just one hoodie. I still can’t wonder how they can stand that cold.

But we finally ascended the flimsy ladder and climbed onto the best part of the house: the upper terrace.

The terrace was big and had a small rectangular wall which served as a skylight for the house underneath. And over the terrace, it stood vast and beautiful. It was something I had never seen.

A long ago, I had dreamed of this. My friend, the Train Fanatic, had suggested to go to a faraway hill station for a vacation at night and just stare at the skies all night long. He had said how the stars shone more fully without the artificial lights and how the sky looked complete without the polluted clouds. Since then, a dream had been formed inside my head, of this unseen nature’s beauty. And it had been fulfilled, finally.

The sky was truly spectacular. An inky black canvas, sporting tiny white dots in a specific pattern that Mr Sherlock X rambled on about. It turned out that stars fascinated him as much as trains fascinated my Train Fanatic friend. He showed us the Orion Belt and pointed out some other constellations that were clearly visible from this wonderful town of Vadgaon.

The chilly air was no longer a concern. The numbing feet and hands lay forgotten behind my head. I lay down on the cold, tiled floor, with my eyes fixated on the stars and the moon. How shiny.

It was an experience of a lifetime. A perfect way to spend the nights in a hill-station in winter.

The house we were living in was also near to the town of Talegaon and had a train station in the distance. So of course, we could see and hear the trains pass by. The happiness of Mr Train Fanatic knew no bounds. Different types of engines and routes were explained enthusiastically by him to us. Meanwhile, Mr Mansion Man and Sherlock X took copious amounts of pictures using DSLR cameras of the vastness above. They tried and tried but did not come remotely close to artificially replicating the nature’s beauty. But that is how Nature is. Irreplaceable and untouched.

The night continued, paired with a cup of hot and spicy noodles. It was a perfect combination which went hand in hand with the borderline unbearable, but otherwise cosy cold atmosphere. We slurped those ramen noodles in one go (okay, that is exaggeration, but still!) and the warmth they provided was amazing. It was one of those moments where everything fits.

We proceeded to take pics of each other with something called Light Painting. We posed in a funny way, made patterns and signs using a torch light and did all kinds of crazy stuff on that cold terrace that added to the effect of the night. And it only helped that Mr Sherlock X was a great guitar player. His strumming in the background provided a different, sort of warm melody to our hearts.

Credits: Siddhant Rajadhyaksha NOT FOR REPRODUCTION

Credits: Siddhant Rajadhyaksha
NOT FOR REPRODUCTION

We further climbed down, after lots of pictures and talks, some exciting, other time passing ones, and finally decided to have some dinner. Mr Sherlock X, being Sherlock X, declared that he wanted to make the dinner. And what better dinner in a cold temperature than Maggi noodles.

But of course life isn’t a straight path. It is a winded road. And the Maggi Noodles failed. Miserably. From a bowl of wonder, it turned into a bowl of porridge. It was tasteless, un-eatable and smelt horrible. Mr Sherlock X joked that the thing he had created was perhaps even radioactive.

We made some more, this time I made it correctly, and ate it and Mr Sherlock X and I headed into the chilling night to dispose of the mess.

The night was colder outside than it was on the terrace. Chilling to the bone, the wind swept my hair back. I shivered, but my thin friend Sherlock X was somehow immune to the cold. We dumped the “radioactive waste” in the wastebasket a few metres away from the house and ran back inside, before I turned blue from the cold.

But the initially planned normal night was turning into more of an adventure. And it continued.

Apparently, Mr Mansion Man had forgotten to notice the frigging ARMY of ANTS that was covering the door to the house. And without that knowledge, I had merrily stepped inside the house, scraping my sides on the door.

I jumped in horror, shedding my coat faster than light and screamed in awe. I swear the screams were manly! But my heart left my body and leapt out of my mouth. THOUSANDS of ANTS were dancing and running on my coat, now spreading on the floor, covering the whole house. I yelled to my friends and they looked surprised too. That is when we noticed the Army of Ants on the door and quickly closed it.

Mr Mansion Man turned out to be an efficient one too. And Mr Sherlock X, though not a very great cook, was a big bowl of CALM! They both extinguished the army with one blow of Bug Spray and the brave ants died, one by one. We swept them off the floor and into the night. My coat was finally ANT-free.

We sat on the floor a few minutes later, breathing a sigh of relief, whilst laughing over it. We mused on about the twinkling stars, the radioactive Maggi Noodles Porridge, the Army of Ants and of course my “Super Manly” screams (I swear, they were!). We headed upstairs and sat cosily in one of the rooms, playing Scotland Yard and Poker. Why do you think we call Mr Sherlock X just that? Because he is a very good Scotland Yard player and as Mr X is very chalu (clever).

So the night seemingly came to an end and we stowed ourselves between the deep bowels of blankets, finally closing our eyes. The night was at an end, and the new day would bring us new adventures.

NOPE.

A rooster. That fucking rooster. I don’t usually swear in my blog posts, but this one rooster deserves the worst of the worst. It was nearly 4, for god’s sakes! This rooster cawed (or cried or roosted or whatever it is called) so loudly that the whole house shook. It kept crying out loud, telling us to wake up. It had no freaking business cawing at 4 in the morning. And that is how I nearly stayed up all night, for the first time.

The next morning, we woke up groggily, groaning. Because the rooster, that fucking rooster, still was cawing.

It was a night full of things. A Night of Happenings.

Heya, Bleedsters!
Just wanted to wish you all a very Merry Christmas! Have a great one and enjoy…
Kunal

As always, if any of it made you smile, laugh, frown or giggle like a little baby, comment share and like! To be up-to-date with my other posts, give a like to my Facebook page and follow onTwitter if you use it! Any images used are either taken from Google Images or from my own personal collection or other sources which will be mentioned if and when, unless stated otherwise. Contact me if you want it removed.

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