1. en-ashram-N/G
2. 28-06-2025
4. Tweet

It startled me. The unexpected doorbell. It was late at night, and I wasn’t expecting anyone. These days, someone rarely comes to visit without prior engagement. We speak on the phone, make appointments, and then meet at a fixed time. As if we are visiting each other at a doctor’s office. And these days, most of the time we do not meet at home. We meet at a food court if not a restaurant; or we go to a café. We meet in the crowd. We do not like to meet anymore in the privacy of our own living room. We are lonesome and we are afraid that another visitor’s loneliness will make us hollow men and will add to the loneliness in our living room. We do not like to drink tea from our own kitchen. The tea from our kitchen isn’t exactly the same as what we’d get at the café. We find comfort among strangers of the café. The hum of conversations from nearby tables of strangers creates an invisible wall of privacy for us. 

Then, who would ring the doorbell at this time of night? In a flash, my surprise turned to fright. Somebody must have come with some bad news. What could that be? It had to be something serious; otherwise, nobody would bother going to someone else’s house and ringing the door bell late at night. For trivial things, they would wait until morning. Maybe it wasn't something serious. Maybe a neighbour or a passerby came to tell me that I’d forgotten to turn off the light on my car parked in the driveway, or to close the window. Or maybe they came to tell me I'd left the garage door open. Yes, it had happened many times that I’d left the garage door open and my neighbour came to tell me. One time, even my neighbour didn’t notice that I’d left it open, but a passerby did. But instead of ringing my doorbell, he took the bike from my garage and happily biked away – I have no idea in which direction. So, this time for sure it was not a bike thief. It might be my neighbour. But no, he flew to Costa Rica yesterday. Then, who? 

Never had a doorbell’s ring seemed so piercingly disturbing, so inexplicably enigmatic. And in its unsettling resonance, I heard the echo of our own isolation. It was invented to add to our convenience. I think it actually symbolizes our distance from each other. As we became more modern, our doors became more closed. We became distant, private, and aloof. Our modernity brought us many conveniences and comforts, and also the doorbell, which serves to prevent intrusion into our private lives. Our urban life is secured by intricate locks and keys. Urbanism has allowed us to become more affluent, but at the same time, it’s created deprivation. We don't trust anyone anymore because we know that those whom we’ve allowed to be deprived can claim a share in our affluence. How is it that some of us have been so lucky as to get so much, while others haven’t? We have a simple answer: some of us are more intelligent than others. We came to the cities with our intelligence to reinvent our lives and innovate things that made us affluent. We kept some of the affluence at home, and so our homes need to be protected from those who are hopeless and hapless!

As I stepped onto the stairs to go downstairs to answer the door, the word “innovate” sparked a web of thoughts. What else could replace the doorbell? A doorbell is an old-fashioned device to prevent intrusion. Like many tech-savvy people, I could have added a camera to it, which would have allowed me to see who rang the bell. But it rang so occasionally these days that I almost forgot its existence. That’s right. A few days ago, a very polite salesman came to promote a lawn-greening product, but instead of ringing the bell, he knocked on the door timidly. And, oh yes, some time ago it rang insistently. I rushed to the door, flung it open, and was greeted by a little girl clutching my errant cat. “He’s sad. He wants to go in,” she said, her voice filled with concern. She dropped the cat and ran back to her mother, who was standing apologetically. The cat meowed, its cry eerily echoing the doorbell's ring.

I didn’t remember if my doorbell had rung again since then. So, it existed without announcing its existence for a long time. Maybe it rang now not only to announce itself but also to announce a welcome visitor. Perhaps a friend from a long past era remembered me after a long time and arrived at my door without notice. Then, it would be a happy occasion to have tea from my kitchen. Maybe he arrived late in town or wanted to surprise me by ringing the doorbell at a quiet nighttime hour. 

The bell rang again. But this time, it didn’t startle me.

Rashed Nabi
Ottawa.

1. en-ashram-N/G
2. 28-06-2025
4. Tweet