Power Failure

It was almost 10 when I arrived at the station. It was a beautiful clear night. The wind was gentle and the air was filled with the fragrance of the star jasmines from the side of the road. Unlike Jakarta, where the lights are on in every house every night to keep burglars away, here it’s mostly dark everywhere, except for the small lights here and there, and from the treet lamps. I was reminded of lights outs in my home town. Some people complained about power failures. Here people make a big fuss if there is a power failure. It would be on the front page of the newspaper and in the news on every channel. But we always had candles at home. And I always enjoyed the few hours without electricity. It was quiet. No hum from the fridge and the neon lights. No noise from the tv and radio. We left our rooms and gathered in the living room and watched the candle burn. We chatted with each other. We told stories. Sometimes I sang to fill the time. I was the only one amongst my sibling who sang (I wasn’t a good singer, but I didn’t care). After an hour or so, the power was back on. The living room was flooded with light and we had to squint to keep from going blind (or so it felt). Everybody cheered. We blew the candles happily, as if blowing birthday candles. Then the tv was turned on again. And the fridge hummed again. The group dispersed and everybody went back to doing their own things, by themselves.
I know that electricity is crucial for hospitals and people at home with life-saving electrical equipment. But maybe, those who can should turn the power off at their homes every once in a while and gather in the living room to chat and watch the candle burn. It’s just one of the best times you could have with your family.