The call reached Anu wrestling the burble of tap water and
scrubbing of utensils.
“What’s ma?” Anu yelled back without pausing her tireless hands, busy erasing the stubborn stains under the pan. The maid was not coming for two days and she had to catch her bus to the office. It never waited for her a second. Who stopped for whom? – Philosophy of life. She already had practised deducing a philosophical conclusion over everything. This added a scoop of metaphysical dessert over her ever-grumbling mundane dishes and also assisted her to sinew the weakened muscles of desperation with the sprinkling satisfaction of spasmodic stoicism. Life was such a hard-core pragmatic brut.
Anyhow it was 7.55.32 A.M. in the kitchen clock and she would have to rush within ten minutes. She was gasping for breath like a bellow.
“What are you doing? Cannot even finish with the dishes? Oh! In my time I had to swab a thousand utensils within a blink. The relatives used to come and go like a swarm of locusts. One day two of your father’s friends came suddenly without any notice…”
“…and you have to cut a big fish on your own as father was
not at home. Then you cut your finger and you have to
cook even with that bandaged thumb”, Tanu completed the
anecdote as she came from the kitchen and stood before
her chair, mopping her hands in a towel. Tanu watched her mother.
Her face looked visibly irritated at this unwanted disruption. The story she was meant to finish should not be completed by others in certain haste.
“How did you know?”
“Because you told all these zillions times since I was 9 or
10 and now I’m 33. Now tell me what do you need? Why
are you calling me? I’m in a hurry.”
“All of you are always in a hurry. I was calling you for a
reason. Ummmm… I cannot remind it now. You talk so much. And I forget.”
“Ok tell me later when you can recall. I’m going to take my bag.”
Anyhow her mother could recall immediately after Anu turned for the stairs.
“Give me a banana.”
“Oh! You are always so busy that you even forget about
the bananas your brother bought when he came home
last week. They were bright yellow and big. Now for your carelessness, they are going to rot in freeze day after day.”
“It was not last week ma, it was a week one year ago when our verodina blossomed in bright pink and you fell very ill. Then he came to see you bananas and stayed just for two hours following his wife’s strict instruction.”
But Anu could not say this to her. This would make her sad
for sometimes until she would forget everything except
the homecoming of her son last week and the bright
Hey, I am Munmun, the phoenix fabulist who wants to tell you stories. I love to read stories and I love to weave stories. I feel life is an amalgamation of multiple stories, colourful threads, and threads of pain, pleasure, hope, and hopelessness. We just need to pick those hues and arrange them, knitting them with our own emotions and perception. So let’s celebrate the stories of life.