notes from a power cut in July

7:43pm: Power goes. The ceiling fan winds down with a dignity I find touching. The city noise, which I usually tune out, becomes the whole soundscape. 7:45pm: My phone says 38 degrees outside. I go to the balcony anyway. The street below has a festive quality that power cuts produce: people outside, shouting to neighbors, someone's generator starting up with a satisfying growl. 7:55pm: I cannot find a candle. I have never in my adult life thought to buy candles for use as candles. I have candles for ambiance, which is different. They are all the decorative kind and produce very little actual light. 8:10pm: Sitting in near-dark. The man in the opposite building is playing music from his phone speaker. A song I know but can't name. I am sweating. 8:25pm: I eat leftover dal and rice without heating them. This is fine. Humans ate cold food for all of recorded history. I have been spoiled. 8:47pm: Power returns. The fan restarts. The fridge hums back to life. I feel a disproportionate rush of love for the electricity board, which I know won't last but is real for now. 8:48pm: Everything is exactly as it was. My life resumes. I feel vaguely that I was close to understanding something.