CEILING FAN

I woke up to the creaking sound

In the middle of my night

As the burnt smell invaded my nostrils

I looked up

I had guessed it right

It had stopped

My ceiling fan had died on me

Leaving me in a pool of sweat

The unfinished cigar and nightmare

Have lost their way 

While I struggled with my slippers

On my way to the bathroom

I rang up the electrician in the morning

But the call didn't go through

The creaking and the smell

Have exited the room by then

I got up from my sofa

Walked upto the switchboard

Fiddled with the regulator a little bit

But it was not to be

The fan stood still

I took a stool

Stood on it

With my hand

Tried to turn the blades

My hand did its bit

But the blades didn't do much

I picked up my mobile

My electrician didn't 

I poked at the switches a little more

Retired to the consoling comfort of my sofa

I tried the electrician a couple of times

Texted him and kept away the mobile 

The phone rang

I picked it up 

Unknown number

I inquired, "Hello?"

There was a lot of static on the other side

I was not able to hear much

I was yelling a few more 'hello's into the speaker

When a sudden cool gush of breeze hugged me

I saw the curtains waltz

The pages of my open diary flutter

The paper calendars almost fly out of the wall

The blades were turning

I kept my phone on the table

Went back to the switchboard

Just as I was about to turn on the fan

I felt something under my left foot

I picked it up

It was a small piece of that nylon rope

Probably got stuck under the canopy of the fan

I switched on the fan

The blades were starting to turn...