Written by Bella Fernandes
“Can you believe she is still sleeping?” Mom yells as she enters my room. I don’t understand why she can’t let us sleep in on Sundays at least. My mom used her weapon to irritate me and she switched off the fan and opened the windows. I could hear her murmuring and she sounded bugged.
I looked at the clock, and it was only 10:00. “Wake up! We have guests coming down,” I spoke to myself. I thought about it for longer, “Why do these guests have to spoil my Sunday, why can’t even they sleep and let others sleep in peace?” And as usual I answer my own question. “They probably want to eat free food.”
Mom sits near me and caresses my head, “wake up Samaira.” l start to beg her to let me sleep for five more minutes. When I say five more minutes it actually means 15 minutes. “Mumma please it’s Sunday let me sleep for a little while.”
This time she gets really angry. “I want you down in 15 minutes, be quick”, and she shut the door hard. To tease her even more I tell her as she walks down the stairs “Slowly mom the door will come out.”
My frustrated inner self starts to bang the doors of cupboard nearby. I rushed to the bathroom and my leg slipped on the floor, and my pyjamas got wet. I start cursing and blaming my luck. I intentionally keep my eyes closed while I brush so that I can get a feel that I am still sleeping. I washed my face and in a hurry, I closed the door. My poor pinky finger got caught in the door.
What was happening with me today? All of a sudden my eyes turned to the clock and to my surprise it showed 8:30 am. I rub my eyes again in confusion. What! I woke up so damn early or the clock is ticking slow. Mom said it’s 10:00 am. I checked my phone and it showed 8:30 am. This time I really lost my control and I started clenching my fists and grinding my teeth.
I tie my hair and rush down to let all my frustration on mom. I was ready with my speech too but again one more surprise to my surprise.
I see dad talking to a caterer and insisting him to keep mix fruit custard for the dessert. I mean what’s the occasion? I see my brother talking to someone over the phone and guiding them to the address. Who the hell wants to come over early in the morning. Some familiar smell pulled me to the kitchen and I saw mom making aloo parathas. Wow mom aloo paratha for breakfast. I took a small piece to taste and mom’s eyes turned red and she asked me to get ready quickly before I could ask her about the weird things happening around.
I went back to my room and started to scroll through my phone. After a few minutes, mom entered the room. She sits besides me and in a soft voice tells me that some family is coming to see me. I kept my phone down and gave a weird look to mom. “What mom, what are you upto? How can you just call someone over to see me?” When did I ever say I want to get married? My mom only suggested meeting with them and seeing how things turned out.
Mom looks for the makeup kit in my drawer. She knows I don’t like applying makeup.
“What is this Samaira? Look at your desk and drawer. They are so untidy. Don’t you clean them?” “Mom please don’t start again, you want me to get ready, okay, I will, but please don’t start your lecture. You’ve already spoiled my Sunday.”
“First clean this desk and make it look tidy right now.” Before I could say no she handed me a piece of cloth and a pail of water. “Get started Samaira. I’ll be back in half an hour, I want to see you ready.”
Dejectedly, I started cleaning the drawer. I can never do dusting or cleaning without some music in the background. So I played some music to not let myself get bored. The law of distraction works well on me. I start exploring some old stuff while cleaning.
I stretched my hand to clean the corners of the drawer. I could feel the rough surface there. I try to move my finger on it. Ouch! Something pricked my finger. I took off my hand and it was a tiny piece of wood that hurt me.
Again, I moved my finger on the rough surface. I try to remove the drawer and push things aside. My eyes caught some lines carved on the wood. Of course these carvings had to hurt me. It read, “I live to see you smile and to love you all my life.” I tried hard holding the tears. Softly I ran my fingers on the carvings and my heart prayed for the one who I lost in love. The carved words seemed blurry through my watery eyes but they held my attention like nothing else.
I could hear mom calling me down. I gently cleaned the dust that had settled in the carvings. I looked up and wiped my tears, trying to smile. I could feel my happiness come crashing down.
“We like your daughter.” The reply came and I could see my parents smiling.
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