Where am I? An 8×10 square room with a feeling of no air. White walls with dirt marks caused by the edge of my dirty feet mirroring an eeriness inside my mind. The bright white light blinds me for a millisecond and then I see again. A table of inferior quality stands on its four legs trying to hold the weight of my thoughts on this laptop. A box full of “things” I never use like tissues, a clapper, small notebooks I never read, a measuring tape. A chocolate seduces me to break my silly diet.
Behind me, the seduction of the comfort of the bed crawls in my mind. On it, a bed sheet with white polka dot like patterned flowers on a blue lining lies. My wallet lazes there holding the social construct of money, the reason for my survival and humanity’s insanity. A tripod with a light on top of it tries to remind the visitors of my room that I am an aspiring filmmaker. Books lie more for presentation than reading. Books included are “Moviemakers MasterClass”, “The Spirit of Indian Painting”, and two notebooks filled with blank pages. Two coffee mugs with the dark brownish residue of sugar induced coffee.
Behind the brown door are hidden the dirty clothes I am too lazy to put for washing or giving a thought to. Two trousers, a jacket, a jean and two bags I never use hold on to the hook trying to hold on to a place in my life. Neglection is what they brood for now. A cupboard housing neatly arranged clothes by my mother awaits the tyranny of my clumsiness in folding and carelessness in keeping them in an order that can make my life easier. One column of it houses 60% of the books I have not read but aspire to read, and 20% of them are finished and 20% weren’t able to hold my attention for long (ego-issues).
Above me is a navy blue pinboard used for a production design of a film and kept as a memento. Instead of keeping it empty I try to pin notes and my short term goals on it. Notes from Ted Talk videos like “The Politics of Fiction” and “What means Kafkaesque?” are there for my revision until they are replaced with new topics that capture my interest and are interesting enough for me write notes about them.
The most interesting feature of my room, a window that opens up my mind when it’s stuck in a rut. Outside the window, I see the views that are made by God, and inside the window, I make the views of my stories trying to play God. The window is the bridge between the world that exists outside and the world that exists inside me. I dream because of the closing of the window and I exist because of the opening of it. This glass window holds a lot of importance that I just can’t ignore, and in the night it lets me reflect regretfully, in a regretful room.
From the newly found sensational blog – Qwiklit – Learn Literature Now
Where are you? Your room? A hotel lobby? the top of a burning building? In the finest detail possible, describe everything you possibly can, from the sound to the smell to the temperature. Be extremely specific.
Length: 500 Words
I would love to read your attempts at it. My take on it was to analyse how my surroundings surround my thoughts. Let’s see what your take on your room is.