The Power of A Power Cut

This post is brought to you by the cyclone Yaas, raging outside my window, shaking up the trees as if puppets and forcing rain to dance in every direction.

Did you stay in an area where power cuts weren't the norm?

Have you ever shuddered at the thought of an electricity cut?

Did you completely abhor the fact that when the lights went out, you had nothing and I mean absolutely nothing to do?

Well, well, well, save yourself the time and quit right here because this is an ode to the glory of windy or rainy days and rainy, windy and sultry nights when there would be a power cut, rendering the whole area, the whole house in darkness.

This is in praise of all the times when there would be an electricity cut in various cities I have lived. 

In Palampur that meant and if I am not wrong, till this day means, no electricity on Mondays from roughly 10 AM to 5 PM. 

It also means that if there is hard rainfall or gusts of wind breaking the speedometer, the house might turn dark at any moment. 

As a grown up you begin to get bothered by this. About meals not cooked or warmed before THAT DISASTER struck. Or about a mid-cycle load of laundry that will be sitting the whole day/night long in the washing machine. Or the preparation for a test or an exam. Or in case of this generation, maybe charging a device, missing out on a few hours of TV/ internet watching/ surfing.

On the other hand for some people this cut would mean a reprieve. A break from the monotony. A license to dream with your eyes open. An absolute giggle-worthy time for gossip, staring at the outer space or just at the wall or an object in front of you, to summon the spirits, or to crack your head over a puzzle.

This is what I remember vividly from the times when electricity cuts were a common occurrence and there were thankfully, no generators. I could be free of the obligatory studies. I could focus on staring at space. I was free to think and create stories upon stories. My sister specialised in case scenarios. The ones with the worst outcomes. Even diabolic, one would say( but could never guess from her cherubic face). 

It was also the one and only occasion that I could be high handed in my house, provided our parents were out and the lights would flicker. This was the only occasion I could have all the revenge to my heart's content on my sister  for being cleverer, stubborn and efficient and generally nice.

Weapon of my choice- what else- specially curated songs from Hindi suspense films of 50s, 60s and 70s. Think Gumnaam, Wo Kaun Thi?, Mera Saaya, Iteffaq, Dhund, Kohra, Madhumati, Bees Saal Baad (not the one starring Dimple..eeesh! What do you think of me? How dare you!)

When I went to study in Chandigarh the power cuts were an amazing time to roam around from door to door and getting everyone to come out into the main area in front of our hostel mess. It was also the time for sharing horror stories from your part of the country, personal experiences of spooky nature and of course, singing. Imagine a lot of girls set free during the night time when they should either be studying or sleeping, forced out of their rooms because of the summer heat. 

Can you imagine the sense of jubilation in the singing?

I would go to my local guardian's house for spending weekends and this precious time would turn into sitting on the rooftops doing what we did best, sharing anecdotes, singing songs, weaving stories and dreaming about the future with our eyes open. The mosquitos were a bane but youth isn't really demanding that way. Swatting them, scratching our arms and legs, we would carry on chatting unfazed.  

As much as of an old-timer this all might make me sound, I am sure, its just my old soul emitting a bluetooth signal searching for similar devices.