1 Chapter 1: The Storm

About a fortnight before Christmas, it was very stormy. Everything had shut down, even the shops. All were advised to stay at home. I wasn't feeling really festive and welcomed the chance to rest.

The storm, with its dark and dreary ambience, was making my mood just as dreary. I was watching some cartoons, imagining myself in that animated world. Would be really fun if it was real; cartoons can genuinely lift up my spirits!

I often had the propensity to imagine myself in the animated world. It's a childhood passion that refused to go away. I may be twenty-four years old, but whoever put an age to finding happiness.

Alright, so I did get ridiculed by peers through my teens for my strong interest in cartoons. But when I decided to take it up professionally, I was suddenly the voice of wisdom for those very same friends, who were struggling to zero in on what course they should consider.

I was born in Brooklyn, New York to migrant Indian parents, Arvind and Radha Rajan. My parents had moved there as a newly married couple to chart out a new life for themselves. It took them a few years to find a footing and set up a fairly decent life for themselves, with a row house for a home in Bay Ridge and comfortable amenities.

So about seven years later, I was conceived, as a symbol of a settled life. It was time to start a family and I marked that beginning. Welcome Siddharth, aka Sid! A fulfilment of all their wishes.

Life was good, normal and wholesome. My parents were very hard working and that value was taught to me from the very beginning. A lot of importance was placed on prioritizing my schoolwork. Yeah, I was a NERD! But nerds need fun too, and cartoons gave me that escape.

"How come you're still watching cartoons, when your friends have moved on to other interests," they frowned.

But that penchant for single-minded focus stood me in good stead when I opted for the animation industry as a profession.

Although they were skeptical of my choice (Indian parents in those days only figured on engineering, medicine and computer programming as viable professions), they understood my passion and gave me their blessings. Later, of course, the trend was catching on and they were happy.

I now live in a snazzy, urban neighborhood lined with skyscrapers on every street. These tall towers look so intimidating and powerful against the skyline. The modern steel cladding on the concrete structure makes it gleam in the sun at daytime and reflects the shimmery bright lights of the night.

My home is in one such imposing building - an apartment at the top, the 45th floor! Looking down from the window makes the world seem small and gives me an overpowering high. I know it does not seem logical, but I feel like being up so high gives wings to my imagination. And I need loads of it in my profession.

As for that furious, festive (or not!) night, the storm seemed to be increasing in intensity. The sky blinked frequently like a flashlight, thunder roared and echoed through the neighborhood, rain pattered against the windows at a fast paced and loud rhythm, and the wind howled. It made the atmosphere seem so eerie.

I lived alone and the lack of interesting spirited company and conversation didn't help. Suddenly, the rumbling and crackling thunder went BOOM! The lightning seemed too bright and close. I felt, as though for a split second, the building shook.

The lights just went out. As I looked out the huge French windows for signs of light, I saw the neighborhood enveloped in darkness save for the flashing lightening. There was a power outage in the entire street. My anxiety was rising by the minute.

Random questions popped in my mind: What just happened? Did lightning strike the building? How is it possible? Is my imagination getting out of control?

Then I heard another sound. This was much closer, in fact, from my apartment. It sounded like a grating, static noise which kept on playing without any change in frequency.

Again, I was hit with confusion and myriad thoughts ran through my mind: *How can I hear sounds? Isn't the electricity out? It can't be my television. Nah! Televisions don't make that sound anymore*.

I tried to follow the noise and was shocked to see where it was originating. Glowing in the dark with that annoying sound frequency was my vintage, old 29-inch CRT television sitting on a wooden stand, all lit up with white noise.

How is this possible? This television has not worked in years, not to mention that there is no power.

The television belonged to my late grandfather and I have preserved it as a memory of him. CRT televisions are those old TV's that had a big box-like compartment behind the display screen and weighed a ton.

I loved my grandpa, my father's dad. My strongest memories of him include watching movies and comedy shows on this TV with him. He was a man who laughed easily, and that happiness resonated around him.

I loved doing things with him, and since he enjoyed his evening time in front of the idiot box, I enjoyed sitting with him and dissecting the content on screen. These were my vacation times in India, full of joy and stories. Maybe that's what helped fire up my imagination.

When he left for his heavenly abode peacefully in his sleep, we were devastated, and the family rushed to complete his last rites. After completing the rituals, we sat together in the living room, and I gazed at the TV.

"I want to take his television back home," I insisted.

It took a lot of cajoling with my dad, as technology was already rendering these picture boxes obsolete with the advent of flat screens. My grandpa had stoically refused to get a new updated version. Anyway, I managed to convince my father and we shipped it to our home in the United States.

Coming back to the white noise, as I went closer to the television to investigate, I realized that it was not even plugged in. I looked around - quizzical and apprehensive, searching for the reason that sparked off the TV.

I came around to the screen, to see if I could try turning the knobs around for answers. The light seemed to grow stronger and stronger, until it became a blinding blaze.

I started to feel lighter, as though I was losing consciousness. I desperately tried to fight that feeling but was unable to hold on to my senses. My head was spinning, and I felt like I was being sucked into a bright hole.