Skip to main content

The Corner Table

We have shifted to another flat. It is almost as big as the last one. The only difference is that the bedroom is comparatively smaller and living room is spacious. When we shifted everything was easily arranged by the guys who helped us with shifting except my corner table. A small white wooden table which used to be in my bedroom. It had only three things on it : a handmade pen stand, a vase for fresh flowers and a pile of four-five books. This space was my escape in the house.

The day we shifted, my corner table was being tossed from one room to another. And I kept pleading : please let me have my table in my bedroom.

" Mom you don't have any spare corner in your new bedroom." said my elder son.

"Yes, you can have it in your kitchen." interrupted my husband.

"Why don't you have it in the balcony? We can also use it for study after school." suggested my elder son again.

"Mom can I have it in my room? I will make it a super human spacecraft machine." my younger son hopped in the discussion.

"It is my table please!" I almost screamed.

"Mita see how you talk like a child. What is this about My Table? Haan!  You are a mother of two grown up kids. If they want this table why don't you let them have it. We don't even have enough space in our bedroom."
said my husband with a 'final announcement' kind of tone.

I had given up.

"Okay mom let us have this table in the living room now. We can all use it. " another wicked suggestion came from my elder son.

And finally the corner table was decorated in the center of living room. Nobody actually uses it now. And I am trying to find another place again...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Esc

Red-green-yellow. Lights. Lights off. Silence. The night and owl stories. Lust. Loneliness. He called up. Late in the night and remained silent until he could sleep. She listened to his silence and the monster who wanted to drink blood, not rain. He was not in love. He was honest enough to tell her. She was happy to read him, blindly. The script was being written. She read many... many more.... At times, she prayed to be saved. At times, she got tangled. Then he held her hand, showed her love... She searched for keys. Hastily. Gasping. Pressing. Backspace. DEL. Esc.

P.S. - Something Unspoken

Hey Vish how are you? I am great darling . How about you? I am good. What’s up? Nothing . I was just having a little booze party with my best friend. Who? Shanky? Yeah ! Who else could be? Wao ! What’s wao in this? No , I mean its good you are with Shanky. Now you will introduce me to him. Right! Shut up! Please Vish … let me once speak to him.. I like him. Why ? What have you seen in him ? Nothing , just his name is nice and I think he would not be lunatic like you… What? Lunatic ! Oh ! Great… listen Jeanie don’t take his name otherwise … What otherwise? Common you are a friend and you behave as if I am your girlfriend. … ok Fine! Go … talk to him. No… leave it now! ( After a brief pause) Jeanie! Yeah! ……… ( A long silence creeps in) Say Vish! Nothing. Vish! I want to tell you something. I made a blunder. What Jeanie? Vish … I got involved in s** with somebody …. Someone who is married… ohh… but not physically it was something … mental s**… I don’t know how to explain everything.. You

when colors speak...

It is so real, isn't it?  I loved the colors... Woods are calling me.... A silence... A path... A spiritual feeling... drowning in Orange effect   - Vincent Van Gogh