The father-son duo currently residing was an exact copy
of each other. Too pedantic. Too perfect.
It was an awesome Saturday morning – well until then. The
Puja Vacations had just befallen and
there was very little work for me to do. My father suddenly came up to me,
looking as if he had just been fired for no reason and whispered to me in a
sinister undertone, “Clean up the room, boy.” I looked up at him lazily. Then,
his actual borrowed from a lion, roar-like voice spoke to me, “No storybooks
must be kept in the study room. Stationeries must be kept separate from the
books. All your gadgets must be kept out of the room.” And on and on and
on……………………………….
Finally, when he finished reading or rather reciting his
rules – I was practically dead. Well, not practically but literally. So, to re-peace myself, I went up to the
refrigerator and poured myself a nice glass of Getorade. When I again felt like
myself, I asked him boldly, “Can you repeat?”
He did repeat, only this time with some proverbs – which
were maybe to gain my concentration but nonetheless I didn’t understand. So, I started cleaning up my books. Arranging
them and stuff. And that’s when – bang! There was I arranging the books with a
Oxford Mini Dictionary at the bottom of the pile and a class 8 Maths book at
the top. Obviously, there were hazardous results, well not that hazardous – I
had to suffer a bookslide . Finally,
after arranging all the books, I went to breakfast thinking – how much longer I
have to work like a POW (prisoner of war) for this great duo.
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