When a door is more than a door

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.