The Neighbours Upstairs

A young couple moved upstairs a few weeks ago and as they settled in their daily lives, I became a part of their life. How?

There would be silence all day long, but as soon as the sun starts lowering in the horizon, I hear her enter the balcony. How? She hums songs from the 90s as she sips on her chai or coffee. He joins her sometimes. I hear them talk sometimes. But, most evenings it's just her with her slow songs.

Sometime later in the evening, I hear footsteps dancing. How? I can hear the beats of a song and the shuffling of feet to it from my roof, their floor. They're learning salsa, or tango, or some dance that brings them closer. Somehow.

As the night progresses, I definitely hear some clatter while they cook dinner. How? There's definitely some clatter - a spoon, a plate and unfortunately some glass too at times. They're a little clumsy. Or maybe they are just getting used to each other in this new kitchen and with each other.

Then sometimes, late at night, I hear them sitting in the balcony again. How? They're talking, faintly, whispering almost, laughing, sharing stories over music that makes such simple moments magical.

I also hear them cry, console, laugh, fight, talk on phones with friends and with each other and somehow I'm a part of all this and nothing. They exist and I do too, in their lives and mine too.