This Day Would Come...
| Posted in Fiction, Guitars, Newspaper, short story, Streets, Tea | Posted on 2:58 PM
Dad is sipping his morning tea and reading the newspaper.
Mom is outside gathering clothes from the clothesline because it started raining about ten minutes back.
I'm having my morning tea as well. I'm out of my two biscuits permitted to be had every morning.
The sound of dad turning his pages irritates me.
I'm staring at my now-empty cup of tea. Suddenly, I remember what my friend had said to me.'I want to go and play guitar on the streets,' I announce, to nobody in particular and everyone in general. I explain further. 'It's a campaign by some company in which the money collected is donated to the poor. Just for two hours. Please.' I don't know why I used the word 'please'. I don't even know if I should have.
Mom reacts first. She takes one of her saris down from the clothesline and puts it in a bucket where she's collecting all the clothes. It falls down making a splash-like sound. Proceeding to the next sari, she says, 'Good. You'll at least do something better than lazing around all the time.' Then, she puts another sari into the bucket and goes ahead to the next in line.
Dad picks his cup up and takes a sip. Then, lowering his glasses without using his hands, he looks at me. A stern, puzzled look. A questioning look. He turns his head slowly and looks at mom. 'You know,' he says to her; his hands still holding the newspaper. 'I told you this day would come.'
Mom keeps on collecting clothes from the clothesline.
The serene grey sky keeps on pouring softly.
Dad goes back to reading his newspaper.
And I go back to staring blankly at my empty cup of tea...
X-x-X
Disclaimer: Fiction
Although, there really is a campaign in which you can get to play instruments to raise money for the poor. :)
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