When a door is more than a door
By G.S. Edwin
JAKARTA (JP): Doors do not merely separate space, nor are they only meant for ingress and exit. They, especially the closed ones, tell stories.
Joseph Keller, in his book Good as Gold, mentions that a closed door in an office, the antithesis of transparency, is an unmitigated evil. Empirically speaking, behind it there is only scheming, no thinking. So, important doors closed in an office for a long period of time mean that someone is getting the boot or an outcome equally disastrous is on the way. Such outcomes have created closed-door phobia.
In government offices, closed doors are sealed when a red bulb on the door stays lit. Now don't get ideas. Top bureaucrats are required to use the red light when they are dealing with a "for your eyes only" file. But, seasoned minions know that when the red light is on, the top dog is snoozing or feeling blank.
There are many who regard closed doors as claustrophobic. They prefer natural darkness, even if they have to wait for it. They have a dim view of closed doors. With a wry sense of humor or where-gone-virtue sigh, they bemoan: "Behind closed doors, hardly anyone sings devotional songs."
Have you ever occupied a room in a hotel with a closed door doubling as a part-wall between your room and the next? If so, did that make you feel creepy, or adventurous like Don Juan? Once, a man who felt creepy called the manager and irately asked about the closed door. Instead of catching right and addressing the guest's apprehensions, the manager, who thought it was a solicitation, rose upbeat.
"It is like this, sir. Sometimes, couples like to cohabit but don't like to share the same bed or toilet." At this point, sensing disapproval from the chill at the other end, he changed tack. "Don't worry, sir. Unless occupants of both rooms consent I would not activate the Open Sesame," but could not resist adding, with a chuckle for cover, "that would open Ali Baba's cave, strewn with treasures."
Then, there are doors in special settings with one-way mirrors. They stay closed and do their nasty work by laying bare what is behind the door and giving an unfair advantage to the viewer in front of the door, usually a leering, pot-bellied lecherous male, fancying as patron.
Sometimes one comes across a sign on the door saying: "Thank you for closing the door." It is an admission that the occupant is uncomfortable with the door open; for, many a times, an open door does more than expose. It diminishes, if not devastates. So a closed door is a prop that makes a jackal a lion.
The word "door" has its figurative uses also. "Closing the door after the horses have bolted" is one of the oldest, a royal chagrin. While two parties keep talking, called negotiation, you frequently hear "the door is not closed," justifying why nothing much was accomplished when the door was open. "A cordon is actually a closed door, not made of wood or steel, but soldiers.
A pampered few face no closed doors, they use the back door. A violent door close is not taken as an explosive rejection by any veteran salesman, but a challenging trumpet call. Lastly, an open door and a door ajar are not one and the same: the former gets the benefit of the doubt as an invitation, while the latter kindles curiosity and speculation.
Sometimes the mere word door can play a momentary trick. A student was summoned to the college principal's office. After a brisk thrashing, the principal dismissively roared: "Now, find the door."
Then, there are doors that remain closed, only nominally, particularly in five-star hotels. Decked in picture postcard regalia, their doormen don't allow you to walk into the splendor and opulence behind the door, but insist that they will ceremoniously open it and usher you in.
Lastly, doors were once strategic tools in Asia. The most important attribute of a successful business man's house was its expensive and telltale head door, speaking eloquently of its owner's status and affluence. The door, made of aristocratic snorkling teak, was always kept closed to show its radiant front of exquisite carvings and semi-precious stones. Business visitors were made to face the full glare of the overpowering door. The closed door, turned a malevolent spook by now, did the rest, hypnotizing the visitor and getting the best of terms for its owner.