An Evening with ABBA

Some things are nowadays hard to come by; they have become rare in occurrence. One of them is a quite early evening break time passing through the dusk to the late evening when darkness falls. I like to sit back in my armchair and just gaze at the street of I C Colony. The street comes from right below my balcony and disappears to the left after a hundred steps. This small stretch is cornered by all variety of trees you will find in a Catholic neighbourhood – coconut trees (prime residents), a stray mango, a wild tamarind and drumstick trees.

It was raining today. I had no plans for the evening. I put my favorite CD in player. The usual light had dimmed due to drizzling clouds. I filled my lungs with the damp, cold breeze. ABBA started singing in the background “Take a Chance On me” setting the mood for the evening. I had forgotten their sound in the noise of heavy metal like I had forgotten this quite lovely evening in my hectic schedule. I looked at the turn at the far end of street. Your house was down the same street. Do you still listen to ABBA like we used to play and listen to it together? What music! Their piano and the voices of Agnetha and Anni that take you back in the old world. I looked at the traffic on the street. This was your usual route to the church. I was observing the street carefully hoping to see you. I knew you were in a bad mood these days like the one described in “Chiquitita”.

Chiquitita, tell me what’s wrong

you’re enchained by your own sorrow

In your eyes there is no hope for tomorrow

You were chained by you own sorrow! I started speaking to you using song lyrics. I knew you hated this so much. You always wanted me to come up with something original. Now I am too exhausted to write anything. I will play “Chiquita” when you come here.

Thought of your coming drove my attention to the street. Then it started raining. It would be difficult to spot you, if you were carrying an umbrella. I started fantasizing you with the “Can’t take a chance on me” playing in the background. Dusk fell. Gray and bluish light spread in the sky. I really started dreaming with the “I have a dream”, that you have come and I am meeting you at the baker’s shop at the corner…

I believe in angels

Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels

When I know the time is right for me...

You were really looking like an angel today. But this is just a dream like the one in this song. “Across the street, I have dream...”

High pitch treble of ABBA blended perfectly with the dusky hue and cold breeze. I closed my eyes and went to sleep in my chair. It must have been 10-15 minutes but sounded like a really long time. Darkness had taken charge. Sodium streetlights were spilling yellow light on the small puddles on the street. Silhouettes of the coconut trees were “Dancing like pendulums”. I had come to know that you wouldn’t come. I should have known this before. You don’t stay down the street anymore. You are far away across the oceans. And my dreams can only reach across the street. I came back in my reality. Dusk is not the sign of light; it is a signal of darkness. Your dreams just remind me of the void that you have left. Blue light of the evening reminds me of your eyes and drizzling rain reminds me of your laughter. Now that my dream was over, rains had stopped and night was hanging over and I had nothing to do, I just sat back in my armchair and replayed ABBA.

Some things are really hard to come by nowadays.