Through the windowpane he spots this fragile yet lively streak of light bouncing off the roughest of surfaces to create a chromatic aberration of sorts, but his persistently deluding mind would like to think it is a rainbow. A rainbow that stokes nostalgia, “Aha! Why don’t we take a shot of that?” and “Capture it for posterity or for plain old bragging rights” – Nope he is far too pensive for that kind of action, now.
He is busy dwelling on mosaics. Mosaics – their units are just facets, they charm you, hurt occasionally, frustrate diligently, preciously quixotic parts that slouch and tighten without the least bit of notice. The bits are indeed original works of art, organic, unique and beloved. However the whole is dull — the intended art form is rendered an artifact — and reeks of banality.
Thoughts of his are disturbed by the sound of a fast approaching train; he hates trains — because he loathes train stations. Peeps out of the windowpane again, watching one’s source of anxiety is soothing. Looks at the adjacent mirror accidentally. A beam of sunlight thrusts itself past the translucent pane to let the network of his sanctimonious pieces shine in all their specious glory. “Gotcha” says the mirror!
Mirror avoidance is a skill, thought he was good at it. Now, a chirp, from afar, yet so distinct: “Try sticking to windowpanes”.
… “Meel pattharon se meri dosti hai, chaal meri kya hai raah jaanti hai”
(Hindi Lyrics by Irshad Kamil – from the song Safar – Movie Jab Harry Met Sejal)