I hope everyone is doing well. After a long time, I've returned among all of you. I had kept myself away for a long time due to the extreme busyness of family life, work life, and school life. Today, I am starting again with a new story for the daily prompt writing contest. So, let’s begin.
The word "lift" is entangled in a strange tug-of-war with middle-class life. When Sumit first joined this multistory office, this square iron box was just a machine to him. But over time, this very lift became his silent companion every day.
Every day at nine in the morning, a huge battle begins in front of the lift. Everyone dressed in formal clothes stands with bags slung over their shoulders, eagerly staring at the red digital numbers on the display board. As the numbers drop to 12, 11, 10, the excitement within people seems to increase. Finally, when the heavy steel doors open with a soft 'ting,' a silent push begins for entering inside.
The atmosphere inside the lift is entirely different. Here, no familiar rules apply. Unfamiliar people stand so close to each other that the sound of one person’s breath can be heard by another. Yet, no one looks at each other. Everyone intently stares at the ceiling, as if the most captivating film in the world is playing there. Some pretend to be engrossed in their mobile screens with their hands in their pockets, avoiding eye contact with the person next to them.
Sumit enjoys it the most when the lift suddenly begins its journey upwards from the bottom. For the first few seconds, a strange emptiness forms inside his body. It feels as if his heart has risen to his throat. Just like the initial moments of a roller coaster. As the lift rises higher, the outside world appears to shrink. If it's a capsule lift with glass walls, the vehicles below seem like small toys and the people like ants.
So many different stories unfold inside this lift. Some days the entire journey might pass in complete silence. Other times, the whispers of two colleagues, the strong scent of the boss’s perfume, or the trembling hands of a file held by a young interviewee can weigh down the atmosphere. When the lift stops at each floor and the doors open, it feels like a new scene is unfolding. Someone lets out a sigh of relief and exits, while someone else hurriedly enters.
By the end of the day, when the lift brings Sumit back down, he feels that this mechanical box does not merely carry people up or down. It seems like a small reflection of life, where everyone is hurriedly rushing towards their own destinations, even while being very close to each other.
