A Passing Day


Someone was playing a known tune on the Harmonium. A few octants into the tune, the Sitar starts to add to the melody. The quick hits by the drummer on the cymbal start to add a gravelly texture to the tone. A slow tirkita on the tabla and the sarangi being played pizzicato starts to add flair to the piece. The lyrics have already teleported me to a different world as I keep writing code in an IPython notebook. I press Ctrl + Enter and wait. I know this will take some time to produce the output.

I keep my headphones on and start to look around. On my right, I see him draw some charts. He had been drawing them for the last 2-3 days. Does he like to make such reports, I wonder. The base guitarist pulling off a masterpiece. No one often notices how much importance he brings to the band. Like always, he turns to me and says, “Dude, this draw.io is amazing. I am actually enjoying doing this”, answering the question I asked him mentally. Then he goes on to share some research articles which he has read and understands too. (Do you get it? Both? Two in one).

The vocalist starts to make an impact. It is probably what most people listening to this piece will take away. I crane my neck further to see another friend. Why is he dancing? He is always so alive! His Samsung phone vibrates which pulsates the entire desk. It gives me shivers too. Probably just a text from his girlfriend but a Samsung phone often makes you rethink what a phone can do. The dance turns into a small celebration. A celebration of his code running perfectly, as always. How many people reside within this one person, I wonder. Seems like I have gotten to know only a few of them yet.

The pianist now gets a solo! Her dwindling fingers over the black and white making a fantastic melody. I turn my head further to the right to see the next person. The headphone wire which is plugged into my Laptop is already taut but I fail to notice. I see her trying to juggle her attention across three screens. I ponder how she manages this. I try to softly call her but she doesn’t seem to respond. Too low? Is she super busy? A train of questions running through my head. Damn! The darker, thicker strand of what I thought was her hair was, in fact, her earphone wire. I try to turn away before anyone notices my embarrassing act. She has now become a puzzle to me, but I probably know why.

The second vocalist starts to add flavor now. She has a high-pitched voice but a confident voice. My chair now at 120 degrees from the initial position. This time I see someone short trying to look at a screen which is about 20 cm higher than her eye level. Always, the best at whatever she has done, keeping her head high might be something that comes naturally to her. Her blue headphones which almost strangled me once, canceling out the noise of the world from her.

The flutist starts playing now. It’s going to be the end of the song probably. I turn more. My headphones pull me back this time. Finally, they gave up. My head now getting pulled backward creating a strenuous situation. I snap out of it with some wild movements to see him right behind me. Rumor has it that he has hundreds of parallel threads running in his head whenever he hears something. The sink node of only of them is known which always ends in a pun. I try to reason if he is one of the purest person and coders I have met.

I realize that it is time to give some momentum to my chair and turn around completely and check the output of my program. Meanwhile, I think why does this group bond well? Probably, everyone is a different kind of weird.

Damn! I forgot to run the previous cells. YouTube in the other window shows play again.


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