No Alarms, No Surprises

A Story by Munawar Mobin

The sun seeps through the blinds of the window, forming zigzags on my arms, running up all the way to my shoulders. They fade away; it’s a sunny day with blue skies, lots of clouds and the sun going in and out of hiding every now and then. There’s also a slight breeze, one that picks up and whistles through the leaves and then dies down the next second.

I look to my left, out on to the close horizon. It’s littered with houses, apartments and buildings varying in shapes, sizes, colours. I can hear people buzzing at the market a few feet below, the random barks of dogs in the distance, the laughter of children playing in the heat, the splashing of water as women wash their clothes and of course the whistling of the breeze through the leaves.

My room is silent; the creaking fan had stopped long before dawn came over the buildings on the other side. I stay there in bed and close my eyes. The light continues to play on my arms, smiling passionately on the world now and crouching playfully under a cloud next. The sounds continue to pour through, the silence inside my room beckoning them to come and join. I can hear the sound of more children now, and running feet, they seem to be getting closer. A noise of a rolling tire follows. The clip clop of slippers fades away.

The sun is back and it stays for a while, I can feel its heat on my face as the rays peek over the window blinds. The sun moves again, the warm embrace disappears, my body feels cool. An alarm clock shrieks from the right side of the bed. It shuts out the silence and all the noises and sounds from outside rush away immediately. The clock screams out and all of a sudden that’s all that is heard in the room. My arm shoots out in reflex and soon the alarm stops ringing. It’s silent once more.

I open my eyes. It’s dark. No noises, no sounds. Dark silence.

I look around; the alarm clock shows it’s time to move. 5:00 am. I gather my books and my student id, and the keys from the bowl nearby. It’s still dark when I close the door to my room behind me and lock it. My jacket feels heavy in arms. It’s probably snowing outside. I put it on.

Two minutes pass. My boots crunching on the wet snow is the only sound in the dead parking lot. I reach my beaten down Honda and wipe away the snow from the windshield and the handle. One wrench later, I’m inside.

The car is cold inside, the leather on the seats are stiff and uncomfortable. I check my reflection in the mirror above me. Tired eyes stare back at me. I look away.

The engine starts at two tries. God is with me today. Home however, is far away.