This is what happens when you switch on the fan in my room.<\/p>\n
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<\/u> I talk of switching on the fan in my room.<\/i><\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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<\/i> 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.<\/p>\n
Of course, the infernal screaming continues. It will<\/i> 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.<\/p>\n
Now listen closely and you will hear Summer laughing his head off.<\/p>\n
P.S I know, I know, it’s time now to descend into Hell.Time to call an electrician.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-462","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/462","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=462"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/462\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=462"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=462"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.beatzo.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=462"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}