I used to play for hours as a kid, running around the neighbourhood playing hide and seek with my old friends without a worry about the world. One peculiar mystery which I still wonder about as a middle-aged man is that of a door beside a neighbour’s house that always remained closed. Out of all my childhood memories, the ones related to this door are the most vivid.
This door was situated beside Mr Verma’s house, at the end of his lawn. It was inside the demarcation of his land. Mr Verma and his family weren’t around very much, this was probably their vacation home. I first came across this door when I had to climb through the boundary walls of this house to find a lost tennis ball. It was a summer morning and it had just rained. I was left amazed by the sight of this beautiful door.
That day there was nothing special about Mr Verma’s muddy lawn, except this door. It was a green-coloured wooden door surrounded by beautiful leaves that had been washed due to the rain. As I came closer, a gush of wind blew through that door and I could hear the rustling of those leaves. The leaves started fluttering and the illusion made it look like the door was about to open, but it never did.
I went even closer to the door, and as I was near it I could smell a different version of the rainy petrichor. Maybe it was because of these special green leaves or it could have been that whatever was inside the door had a smell that was perfectly blending with the environment; there was a freshness in that smell. Before trying to open it, I was enticed by the wooden green door’s smooth surface and I touched it. The surface was so smooth that it hardly felt like wood. I held the shiny silver handle and tried opening the door; it was locked, of course.
As I turned around to get out of there, I saw some small reddish fruits stemming out along the leaves around the closed door. I plucked out one of them and smelled it; it felt like it was edible and not poisonous. I was still cautious and only tasted it from the tip of my tongue. The fruit was sour and unripe but still good enough to eat. I have never tasted the same fruit again, or seen the same kind of leaves. Everything about that door was unusual. I soon left Mr Verma’s lawn as my friends were calling me.
Ever since I have always wondered what was in that door. I used to have thoughts about fairies and princesses living there, my imaginative childhood mind used to even think that it was a doorway to a lost kingdom or another universe for that matter. Even as an adult, I wonder what Mr Verma had been keeping behind that door. It was too beautiful to be keeping things like a lawn mower. I guess it was all for the good that I never found out.
Not knowing what was in that door has kept my imagination alive. I would have forgotten all the guesses I have made about what’s behind it if it were ever opened. We need to have a sense of wonder. As I kid I made a lot of options for what’s in it and it narrowed down as I grew up. This evolution in wonder reminds me of how I have transformed as a grown man, and I may have given up some valuable habits I had as a child. In a way for me, this closed door has opened a lot of possibilities.
Aryan Singh 