About the author Dharmendra Kumar presently residing in United States orginally from Hyderabad, India. His other hobbies include reading novels, movies and playing card games Share Your Comments about this story with the author |
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Dining Table by Dharmendra Kumar “Get dressed up, do you know that your uncle is visiting us today?” my wife held my son by his hand. She was preparing him for his uncle’s visit. “Don’t go and play in mud and mess up your clothes at least for today”, she warned him. She then walked towards me and snatched the newspaper from my hands. I was expecting this kind of move sooner or later. With scowled look on her face, pointing towards our dining table, she yelled at her highest pitch. “Do I have to tell you differently or what? When are you going to clean up that junk piled on that dining table?” Without much hesitation, I got up and walked into my main living room. With time I grew wiser, and at times like this I exhibit my wisdom by being silent. The room was flecked with sun light, which was falling through the window. It must have been months since we used the dining table. We piled up innumerable undistinguishable items on the table. My son’s school bag and his water keg were lying on the front side. We dumped the table fan in the rear end, surrounded by ironing box and my little tool kit with dust all over them. Next to them, I found my wife’s bangle box along with her little purse. On the other side we posted couple of old trays and utensils and a water cooler. Apart from these things, there were some miscellaneous items like glasses, combs and my wife’s cheap makeup kit. We hung all our old clothes and used towels on the chairs. And we had our old storage box pushed under the table. “Where to relocate these items?” I heaved heavily. As I started moving the items to various corners of the room, I noticed some wooden flakes on the floor. I bent down and watched the underside of the table inquiringly. I found that the table had got chiseled out at couple of places and it appeared to me as though it would break any time. I stood up straight and gazed at the table in contemplation. I bought that dining table some two years back. I am a below average poverty stricken family man and I struggle to lead my day to day life itself. When I happened to visit one of the small second hand shops, I saw that lovely and cute small dining table. I liked it from the very first glance. I am not sure with what wood it is made up of, but the outward painting made it look like a rosewood one. I literally fought in bargaining for that table. When I was newly married, that is like twelve years back; my wife expressed her wish to have one in our home. My financial condition never permitted me to afford a luxury like having a dining table. I tried many instances to buy one, but one or the other family emergency pulled me over it. It took ten years for me to fulfill my poor wife’s simple wish. I could not wait to see the shine in her eyes. I paid the shop owner and took the table and chairs in a small trolley to my home. I live in a small two-room house in the suburban area of Mumbai. I have one son who is ten years old and my parents also live with me. We have hard time surviving in a small house which we live in now, but this is the way poor people live in a busy city like Mumbai. As I was on the way to my home, I started to think where to put the table. If we were to put this in the main room, I might have to move the big storage box from the left side of the entrance to the rear side. Probably my wife might prefer to keep it in the kitchen cum second living room. As I approached my home, I wondered what my father would say when he see the table. He requested for some money to go to Mathura, which I kept on postponing for the last two years on the excuse of money crisis. I started thinking what kind of excuses I could offer him to get away. But my mother might be happy to receive a dinning table. My son, who was playing outside on the street, saw me coming with the trolley and immediately rushed towards my home to bring out all the family members. I could see the sparkle in my wife’s eyes when she noticed what I had brought for her. My mother was watching in wonder. As I expected my father was having a skeptic look. Even some of our neighbors came out to see what was happening. We argued among ourselves where to keep the table. My mother said we should keep the table in the kitchen as it was the right place for it. Contrary to my expectations, my wife argued that we should keep that table in the front room. She said if somebody pays a visit to our home, they would see the table. My dad voted to keep it in the main room too, as he always votes against what ever my mom says. With his support my wife won the battle. As I planned, I moved the storage box to the rear end of the house to facilitate the table. I never expected a table would bring some more expenditure. My wife insisted on buying a table cloth. My mother suggested buying dining mats and my father demanded new plates to dine. We started eating on the dining table from the very next day. My wife cooked three curries and ‘kheer’ that day. I felt happy to see all of us eating together sitting around the dining table. My next level of troubles started when my wife insisted that she had to invite some of our friends for dinner to show our dining table. I reasoned with her not to go that far. Inviting friends and relatives meant more expenditure and more pain. In addition to that problem, my father started complaining to my neighbors about me buying the table instead of giving money to him to go to Mathura. At last, I had to invite two of our friends to our home. They asked me at what price I bought the table and they appreciated my bargaining skills. Those remarks made me feel that I did a good job in purchasing. I thought of explaining to my father that I would provide money for his trip after six months, but I could not dare. For some weeks, we continued to eat together on the dining table. But as time passed we no longer ate together. Some times I get delayed on my way home or my parent’s health recommended them for an early meal. My son somehow never liked sitting at the dining table and eat. He always wanted to watch our little television while eating. When I go home late, sometimes it is difficult for making way till the dining table; I adjusted to eat the normal way, i.e., in the kitchen. My father also decided to settle down to his old style, sitting in front of television and eating along with his grandson. At times he would show his anger by cursing the table for making the living room congested. As the time went by, my wife started piling all old and unused utensils and baskets onto dining table. Slowly all of us laid our hands in piling all the junk onto the table. My son and wife started using the part of the table surface as a temporary transitory storage space for their day-to-day miscellaneous goods. We literally stopped using the dining table for its real purpose. Sometimes when we get leisure time, I raise this topic with my wife. Inadvertently she complains about moving to a big house, which we can’t afford in the near future. We dare to take it out and arrange it well when some guests visit us, which is not that common. But today is such a day. “Are you not done yet?” my wife’s chilling shriek brought me down to the normal world. ************************ |
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