office – Ankahi. Unsaid.

A Letter Opener, Letter Knife or a Paper Knife was a fairly common device found on almost every office table during the 1940s. It used to be a straightforward blunt blade of metal to cut-open sealed and gummed envelopes. I found this one among a punching machine, a pin cushion, a stapler, a bloating roller pad, a few glass paperweights, a pen holder and various other table items in my dad’s office after he died. This was really fancy for those times. The obverse and the inverse sides of the promotional paper knife, was probably used as a give-away for cycle buyers by Perryson Cycle & Parts company in India. It is pretty much ‘usable’ even today though the mermaid-like fluke (the tail) of the knife is missing, possibly broken, in ‘handling’. With her high cheekbones and curls, this shapely-Greek-goddess-like-sensation must have been a handful for both the secretary and the boss. I don’t think these guys were missing anything in those days. “Dad, this is going to the museum of memories.”

<p value="<amp-fit-text layout="fixed-height" min-font-size="6" max-font-size="72" height="80">That evening I stood leaning on this window for nearly forty five minutes. I watched the Sun set, possibly the longest without blinking. Even the Sun knew no one would be on that window for a long time. That evening I stood leaning on this window for nearly forty five minutes. I watched the Sun set, possibly the longest without blinking. Even the Sun knew no one would be on that window for a long time.

It was March 21st 2020. I had no clue that the window I am shutting will not open for another year. Yes, this is one of the office windows overlooking the Delhi ridge. Watching the Sun set has alway been calming. Depending on the season and the month – the colours, the mood, the clouds and the breeze send out varied vibes, mostly pleasant despite the cacophony of traffic under the building. How much I wish to be back there soon.

Ishtihaar office with its four windows overlooking south and five overlooking west offers amazing views and brings the seasons indoor. In springtime kachnaar and blossoms ooze from every roundabout soon followed by bright golden laburnums, deep red semal and gulmohars. By the time monsoon arrives the green canopy of New Delhi areas is a delight and that earthy smell, the petrichor, intoxicating. That heady fragrance invariably forced me to open at least two windows, the rain lashing against the panes and the aroma of trees broadcasting their presence. The odour would linger for days. In autumn the yellows and the ochres of fallen leaves would tint the skies too, on clear winter mornings one could even see the Qutub Laat. Ah, pangs of separation!

Tag: office

Dad’s Paper knife

Sunset from office window