Sitting on the floor, she scribbled in her book happily with her pencil. Her small 5 year old hands were not even being able to draw a straight line, but according to her it was the best sketch she’d ever made. When she was finished, she looked at her masterpiece contently & proudly and then looked around to see if there were any spectators. Sadly, she could only see some amusing men who kept a pencil behind their ears, engaged in their work. Her home was being renovated and she had been told that her room would become brand new. She was excited initially but then she grew tired of the discomfort the men caused. She couldn’t watch TV, or sleep in her room.
She had to show the sketch to her mother! She ran to where her mother was. Her mother and father were discussing something. She tried getting in between their legs to see what they were looking at. It was just a piece of paper with some colours on it. After some time, she realized they were deciding the colour to be painted in their room.
She looked at all the colours and found each one of them boring. Then she started rambling about how she wanted her room to be like Jiya’s (a little girl in a movie she had seen), everything pink, from her comb to the walls! Little did she notice her parents weren’t really listening. Actually, they were engaged in their own discussion. After she was finished with her description of the double-decker bed she wanted, she tugged at her mother’s pallu and asked repeatedly if they’d do it the way she wanted. Her mother, busy talking, didn’t notice her daughter first. After a while, she just gave her daughter an impatient ‘go do your work, I’m busy’ look.
That hurt the little girl’s big ego. She stamped her foot and left the room. She thought that no one listened to her, especially her mother. She’ll never give her a goodnight kiss again, she thought. She wouldn’t sleep in her room if it wouldn’t be pink and then tell her mother that she should’ve listened to her earlier.
She reached her room and remembered that she was drawing. She sat down again and started searching for the pencil she was drawing with. She couldn’t see it anywhere. She searched in the mess of papers and crayons but couldn’t find it. Panic set in.
Hatred for her mother turned into fear in a second. She searched her drawer, kitchen, bag, in the room her mother was. She even asked one of the carpenters working there. She saw the carpenter’s pencil behind his ear and looked at it longingly. She had to find her pencil! She could not believe it. She knew it had to be there. She’d seen it moments back! She didn’t want to be scolded and continuously prayed to God to help her find the pencil. After searching every place again, she got tired and tears prickled her eyes.
She went to the mirror in her room and looked at herself and her puffy, red face. Thensuddenly, she started smiling! And then she burst out laughing! She could see her pencil, resting behind her ear…
KHUSALI
SYIT
MULUND COLLEGE OF COMMERCE
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