I looked long at the keyboard. In me was yet another essay to write, but the
keyboard wanted to be left alone. Untouched. Words, images passed in front of
me sometimes as fast and overwhelming as locust I have seen in the desert sky. Or
eagles in the High Sierras. What was the story brewing in me?
I kept looking at the keyboard as the screen was
blank. Till suddenly and in quiet, the first key atop the row of keys jumped
out, and left the board! Do keys just leave the board like that? Was I
self-hypnotising myself by starring at the keyboard for so long?
I followed the rectangular black key stumble on the piles
of paper around my laptop, then fall unto the open space of my desk, roll
around for a second and finally crash onto the floor. I opened my eyes wide to
make sure I was not just seeing things. No, there now was an empty gap where
the first key was, on the top row, left.
I looked under my desk, picked up the key and
leaning back on my chair, held the key up: it was the “Esc” key!!!
That was it. That was the story I had in me. ESCAPE.
But from what? Why?
I looked at the keyboard again. Would other keys
jump out and away? Nothing, they all were where they were supposed to be.
… I had used a keyboard for more than three decades,
but suddenly realised that I had not paid much attention to many of its keys.
Could they help me understand why the “Esc” key escaped? Why I could not write
my story?
At the far right, almost a mirror image of the “Esc”
key was “Delete”. I had used it many times. It was for errors, misuses, and it
was for unwanted thoughts. Funny, that seemed a very powerful key at this
moment. Delete and its gone. Do we do the same with our memories, names,
places, acts, unwanted thoughts? But are they really gone when we push that key
on the keyboard or in our soul? Or do they hide for a while, till you remember
them again? And for the first time, I noticed that the "Esc" key was a bigger rectangle than the "Delete" key. Does form follow function?
Under “Delete” was “Home”. Amazing! It is the key that
brings you back home. Just one touch and you are home. When one forgets where
is home, or stay away from it for too long. That key knows, however. It can take
you back. All you need to do is decide to push it. Home. Where the heart is.
Where the story starts and develops. The place we go back to when we have used
too many keys and had too many thoughts. When we get lost. When we escape!
I looked back to the gap left atop all other keys,
on the left of my keyboard. The “Esc” key used to be there. Now I am holding it
in my hand. Because it escaped. But where is home for the”Esc” key? Was it not
supposed to be the keyboard? And deep under it, the Motherboard? Why did the “Esc” key escape? Will it return to its
spot and fill the gap if I push the “Home” key?
I sat back, looked at the blank screen and wondered
what I should write about. I thought I
had a story to tell, but now I am lost in this phantasmagoric world of unused
keys. Keys with meaning beyond being keys.
So I decided to write about the “Esc” key, knowing
that I can always delete what I wrote and get back to my home page.
[ Picture taken with a Voigtlander VSL35E and a 200mm Tele Tessar, on ASA 100 Ilford film]
© Vahé Kazandjian, 2013
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