A mild smell of paint floats in the newly done house. The marble flooring is smooth, tempting a bare feet walk. A pile of bedding is neatly dumped in a corner. The house gives a welcoming eye, yearning for occupancy.
A cable less television faces the caned couch. A few books, mostly chick lits and a bunch of old Hindi audio CDs lie stacked under the centre table. The routine is punctuated by these necessities, or so it seems.
The hall opens-up to a kitchen and two bed rooms. The bedroom is warm. Curtains of different colours hang from the steel rod fixed to the wall. A single box-bed is placed in the room like a radius of a circle. A postal red sheet is spread on the mattress. A small gas stove makes the kitchen platform look slightly longer. A tub of utensils is conspicuously missing. A plethora of instant cooking items decorate the plastic stands.
We sit in a circle. Yellow light emits from the lamp placed in the centre. Casual conversations. Empty beer bottles. Taboo cards. Scribbled score sheet: nine and eighteen. Garden chips. Potato salad. A tumbler of whiskey. An ashtray housing seven butts. 11:40 PM.
Tuesday, 26 May 2009
After office
Posted by yash suchak at 08:42
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4 comments:
Firstly, 'Chick Lits'...
Second- Nice post!
"..few books, mostly chick lits ...."
Please note: those chick lits are Tulika's
For the 'real literature' refer to the yours truely's 'the bedroom'
and il take responsibility for the seven cig butts :) though i think there would be more by the end of the night.
you have a keen eye yash. really nicely written.
I have a selective eye Hemangi, see how the breezer bottles are conveniently missing :P
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