After 2 seconds ...
Tring ! Tring ! Tring !
The phone rang loudly but nobody picked it up. It had been lying like it had been last night. Alone, cold on the floor above the mattresses spread for a man to sleep. The man was the father. A father of two people both in adulthood, with a son and a daughter. The children and their mother and father all lived in a two bed room apartment. The apartment also has a kitchen, two balconies a staircase to lead any visitor up on to the terrace and down towards the ground floor. The phone in its standby mode lay peacefully in bliss on the third and top most floor of an establishment which is over 20 years old. It was bought after a lot of hard work and planning by the father to give a home to his two adolescents and more space to grow up. This home was not just a home. Although it was small but it saw a lot of developments in peoples lives. With people living in it and outside and using it to their fullest extent with creativity and love.
Sometimes the far off relatives would arrive. And often friends of the children. The neighbors would come to share stories. The new neighbors and the old and their friends and their kids and their friends. Everyone loved coming here. Eating here. Sleeping here. Cooking here and then going back to sleep again. The abode of peace and tranquil aura. It is a wonderland. With colorful walls and wooden furniture. The father liked everything color coded and the mother would want each cushion to be of same texture. They both discussed their knacks and went with it hand in hand. Never had they thought that these small things are adding on to bigger things in life. A life they share with their children and mother and work and co-workers and family and friends. The father with his phone in hand and quirky memory remembered most phone numbers. This habit always led to keep people close and develop closeness with everyone. It was strange that the phone was kept away from the man so obsessed with his phone that he carried it everywhere. But it was shocking that he would not pick up the call even after 7 calls from his daughter!
The son had his own quirks perhaps borrowed from his father but of different kinds. He would lay down in a corner of the room and use his phone. Which was alright since his phone wasn't working. He dropped the little sucker in the Bay of Andaman on trip to Thailand with friends and lost it forever. Meanwhile he grabbed the opportunity to kick up a conversation with friends, and move the ticker to silent mode to not disturb his parents by persistent ringing at every subsequent message. He would sleep there with air conditioning blowing in merciless Delhi heat forgetting about restoring father's phone on general mode.
The same thing had happened the day before. Bad habits die hard and good ones need a reason to develop. Today he was going to learn it the hard way.
His sister sat up from her bed at 4'o ' clock in the morning. Sitting straight up with sweat beads behind her ears trickling at her temple in cool weather of a European city. It was night and she had remembered her mother's calm embrace with peace of her closeness. When she sat up the room was empty. It was an unusual white room with lights turned off but walls claiming their whiteness, never the tastelessness of their beauty. It was a big room from her earlier closet space home with only piece of color - a bed sheet with green and black Rajasthani style paintings on it. It was from India. The mother had presented to her. She caressed her hands on the bed sheet to feel back home. The soft mattress spoke to her of the home she had left back in India. The change was palpable and creepy at the same time. The longing had not yet adapted to the change of life in her new house. She had met her friends JuicyV a youthful young woman from Italy also her former classmate last night over a kitchen party making Lasagna. JuicyV had shown her cooking talents in many countries and was popular for her trademark dish Tiramisu of highest grade. She dreams of making and selling Tiramisu slices for free at her own cafe to the needy and hungry of the world. JuicyV's kind heart had met the emotionally affable heart of the sister and two other classmates -DustyD of Salamanca and Salmow of Iran de la Chai. And the secret of them all coming together had been their trip to Northern India recently to the daughter's home.
She grabbed her phone to speak to her father. The son had got up to wash his eyes. His nightmarish dream weren't uncommon and he too wanted to share the experience with the sister. he looked into one eye and then the other aimlessly scraping off the dirt under bright light of the world behind. He wasn't aware how he got there. He extended his right hand to ask for support from the wall behind the mirror. The morning noise like the summer sun was at its peak. the construction workers had begun their daily labor and grocery seller on their cycle carts could be heard bargaining with women in colorful gowns. He ignored it all and made his way inside the house. Inside the room he searched for the phone. He knew he wanted to speak. But it was too early to be calling her. Normally his sister would be asleep and he would wake her up from her bed early morning. She wouldn't mind. It was alright although sometimes annoying but he would be boisterous about it and find a way to make her laugh and make peace. The brother found father's phone. And found 7 missed calls from sister only two minutes back. The time matched to time when he got up to wash his eyes his sister had been calling on the phone.
His heart sank into his bottoms and out from there on to the floor. The next few seconds went - open watsapp, call, and wait. The possible damage was avoided. And she received the call back to speak.
..To Be Continued :)
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