To this truism universally acknowledged, Aai was no exception. The frying pan or the pot would not be for her a mere utensil. First and foremost, each spoon and every saucer was distinctive. Oh, no, that does not mean ownership mattered a lot to her. Absolutely not! Nor was she possessive, nor materialistic. Diametrically opposed to such traits was her personality.
She cared for every pan-n-pot because her home was not mere brick-n-beams for her. In the same vein, plates-n-ladles were not merely steel-n-tin for her. Rather hopes-n-dreams they were for her. Each one was a repository of a special memory. Unique was thus each utensil. In the initial phase of their marriage, Aai-Papa had to face huge difficulties for no fault of theirs. Each buy hence was a feel incarnate.
Never hence would her teapot call her kettle black. Each utensil would glisten like silver. Not only did she keep them squeaky clean, but neither would she over-heat nor burn them. Banging the pots was never ever her mode of protest either. She treated them as if they, too, had feelings, and so would never hurtle nor thrash-n-trundle them.
Such care and concern marked her treatment of everything in her household, roof, floor, walls, windows, doors, gates, curtains. Each was a jewel, showcased without any gild or glitz. Artistic and tasteful. Her home was her pride, and our castle.
pratima@ home as h(e)aven
Beautifully written.. excellent choice of words from which emotions flow. Back then, people owned fewer things and treated those with great love and care.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rupali Tai!
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely agree with you.
Very nicely written 👍👌
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sangeeta Tai.
ReplyDeleteThe niceness of the write-up, I suppose, comes from its theme, its subject, right?