Saturday, August 16, 2008

A Room With No View

There's something about cloudy weather that gets me every time. On some of those days, I want to run through a huge field... just keep on running till I could take off into the air, fly up amongst the clouds and melt away into the grey. But on other such days, I dream of a room. A secret room, tucked away unobtrusively in some corner of the house. If you didn't look closely, you'd think the entrance to it was just a panel on the wall, or part of a tapestry.

Inside, the room is all wood. The air in the room is still, but always cool. And it hums with magic spells waiting to be chanted. There are high walls, lined with bookcases till the ceiling. Propped up against the shelves is an old fashioned ladder which I use for reaching the books at the top. The books are gorgeous, most of them collectors items- with silky pages, bold lettering and rich graphic plates. They storm into my head and ravage it, dragging me from fireside hearths to battlefronts to misty mountain forests. I love taking them in my hands and feeling their weight press down upon my palms.
There's a cabinet that's always full of fascinating stationery so that I can write and doodle to my heart's content. And a reassuringly strong-looking lock to keep my diaries safe from prying eyes.
There's a cuckoo clock with intricate, delicate carvings, and it plays whatever song I want it to.

There isn't any other furniture. But the room is full of nooks and crannies. And I keep discovering something new in them- an old string of beads, a photograph in black and white, a never-seen-before musical instrument....
And the floor is strewn with the softest cushions you'd ever find.

There are huge stained-glass windows with swirls and splashes of dazzling colours blending into one another. When the sunlight filters through the glass, ethereal ripples of coloured light play on the walls.

I still don't know whether I'd let anyone visit it. Yes, I suppose there are some. We'd lie back on those cushions, positioning ourselves in the way of the sunlight. We'd watch our skin take on dappled patterns of myriad shades. We'd talk in low voices of "shoes and ships and sealing-wax--of cabbages and kings." And time would seem to freeze.

8 beep/s:

cry freedom said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
cry freedom said...

fond of all the good things in life...?
i found this quote in one of Keats' poetry compilations.
"what more felicity can fall to creature,
than to enjoy delight with liberty."
-Fate of a butterfly: Spenser

(the first comment was deleted because of the apostrophe-confusion :P)

Clezevra said...

I want that room!!!
Fits the description of 'sanctuary' so amazingly well...

azuria said...

There's something about cloudy weather that gets me every time. On such days, I want to run through a huge field... just keep on running till I could take off into the air, fly up amongst the clouds and melt away into the grey. <--- *sigh* totally know what you mean..


and that wooden room...
can you believe it?
i've actually had the good fortune of visiting such a place...exactly the way you've described the room!!! and that sense of magic....somehow...wood (and anything else nature-related)always seems to have that ne?

unfortunately...i couldn't stay in that house...which is just sooooo depressing.

i liked this post the best.
*standing ovation*

Death On Two Legs said...

@neeti- lawl :D
Howdy, my fellow compulsive typo-rectifier

Doubletake, Doublethink. said...

wood and books. what a fabulously sexy combination :)

kd said...

you know what i'd do if i had a room like this right?

Prince of Mirkwood said...

"And thick and fast
They came at last,
And more and more and more...."

Walrus and the carpenter;)