This is what happens when you switch on the fan in my room.
Just for the record, I stay in Hyderabad. This fair city plays host to this guy, a big lug named Summer, who is presumably working in one of the IT companies around here. The bugger just doesn’t let up on his job. Sometime around December, his sibling, a guy named Winter tries to tell him to go get a life, and kicks him out the apartment with strict words of advice, something to the effect of “Go South, Young Man!”. Two months, however, is the maximum span of time Summer can stay away from his beloved Hyderabad. And two months later, he’s back, and he’s decided to stay put, sibling advice be damned. That should explain why I talk of switching on the fan in my room.
It starts off, with a sound that’s a cross between that you hear when they’re opening the Black Gates of Mordor and the creaking sound reminiscent of the best of the Ramsay horror (?) films – the kind when you have this old man trying to look scary while holding a lantern in one hand and opening a creaky door with the other. Worse, actually. The blades of the fan wage a noisy war against the molecules of air ( superheated beyond belief, Summer being happily ensconced in this domain ), heaving and puffing against invisible barriers. Gears shake and rattle, hidden wires inside the ceiling untangle or get tangled even more, of course I wouldn’t know which. And then the creak changes to a wail that would give a Banshee laryngitis ( or a bad hangover ). For an instant, for several instants, actually, there is a lurch, as the fan, as a single Entity, vibrates and wails and creaks all at the same time. The air molecules reluctantly give in, or probably they are worried at the condition of le fan. There is a perceptible increase in rotational velocity. The creaking continues, the wails die down. The air molecules decide to abide by laws of nature and lower their temperature. And you, hapless observer, can take your finger off the switch and your eyes off the fan, and you can come in and seat yourself.
Be warned, though. The relief is temporary. There are malevolent forces at work inside the Object That Fans. Keep an eye on your watch ( not on the clock on my table, nosirree, the battery inside is an archaeological marvel ), and watch the minutes tick away with trepidation. Keep an ear alert for the changing sounds that emanate from the Being Whirling Above. Has fifteen minutes passed? It’s time. Feel the abrupt change in the flow of air to your body – look up, you shall see the vibrations have begun again, and then ( because sound is a wee bit slower than light ) you will hear the screeching a thousand cute babies make when you feed them a complete bottle of pudin hara each. Your instincts take over and you leap for the switch – but hark, a minute of your time. Stay you hand, and watch. The Being quivers, it belches, it complains, and finally it rests.
Of course, the infernal screaming continues. It will continue, and many things along with it – but I wouldn’t advise you to further my sadistic temperament by listening to, and watching, the Object of Our Undivided Attention So Far . You can switch off the…er…switch. Oh Sweet mercy, you say. The silence is bliss.
Now listen closely and you will hear Summer laughing his head off.
P.S I know, I know, it’s time now to descend into Hell.Time to call an electrician.
me thinks the fan does not like you. Did you ever try getting away very far from the fan’s domain. I bet you can’t hear it wailing then. So….
So?
So get the Fank out
I will get the Fan
kout as soon as I can. Just have to pay the electrician to switch the one in the TV room with mine.Fanaaaaaaaa!
Last I heard, Anu Malik is coming up with a song called Fan-jaaaaaa. He plans to sing it himself, and he’s asked Shaggy for guest vocals.
Itzz zimbly dakging revhenjh ‘n jhu.
Stop playing earth shaking music day in and half night through, you will see, your fan will not let sleep evade you.
WOW! this rhymed
At least I didn’t say
That it sounds like Elvis Presley on steroids.
WOW! this did not rhyme.
in that case, i would be staying there, not you.
You are still rhyming.
you should stop cribbing and whining
Even if I did, will you still be rhyming?
fan-do
I will do the fan, alright! Do you get pirated shotguns in Shanghai?
fan -du was what i mean anyhow someone interchanged the u and the o here
no shotguns here… short guns is more like it. want one? ;)
Can i redeem that offer for another anime movie? ;-)
oops someone had switched my n and y too ;) no more movie shopping. flying out tomorrow..hehe
Summer!!! Such a pain in the fan-ny!! :P
Eeeps.. Sorry for that pj.. :$
Nice one though, the fanecdote, I mean, had me smiling all the while. :)
Ciao,
Sarika.
Fank You! :)
I don’t comment because my comment would be the same comment… LOL!!!!! God bless you with a super fast, super-*quiet* fan! z:)
I will settle for the one in my TV room. ;-)
Ditto.
Now that was very Fan-ny…
Cheerz,
Denz
Fanks!
fan fana fan, fan fan fara.
I didn’t know you were a David Dhawan fan!!!!
The dude knows his movies. But I didn’t know this was his.
Ah. Now that you know, take the next step – watch the movie. ;-)
But which one?
Judwaa is the name.
No, don’t watch it. Please don’t. I was just joking.
I read your post and look ceilingward for inspiration. My fan, suddenly devoid of noise, and, resultantly, character, whirrs along, ruffling hair unfettered. Drat. Drat Drat Drat.
Er, u still use arcane devices like fans in the UK? I thought it was a Third World commodity. :)
It is, and I love it. Couldn’t sleep without music in the UK, was so conditioned to the sound.
Back in delhi now, dude.
ur Fan seems to be a Fan-atic
dun let Bush n co. know that..
get the electrician b4 the fanatical fan comes after u..