சிந்திக்க அல்ல, சுவைக்க.
Not to think, but to taste

Saturday, 22 October 2011

Sunday dreams

 

Alex

the sound of the loud alarm ringing from one of the room permeates the whole shekar mansion with a notion that the day is about to begin and and get frantic. its Sunday, and that means the whole clan gets up to go to church and and later brunch together as a family. opening an eyelid and muttering foul under his breath, Alex stirs in his four corner post bed and blinks blankly at the ceiling. he scours around drinking in his surroundings. alexander asirvarthan shekar. that’s him. his family name itself is enough to get him comfortably around. he jet sets stylishly with his cousins, laughs while tinkling champagne flutes at parties around town, and changes shades when he spots just another paparazzi trying to get a shot at fame by having a shot of him.

only he knows how much he hates that.

getting up from the bed and dragging his feet to the washroom, he takes a long good look at him self before cleaning up. later after good hot shower, shaved and standing in just boxers in his wardrobe, he runs through his shirt rack for that shirt he bought 2 weeks ago. he hasn’t had the chance to wear it. call him retro but he loves things with quaint details. his room stands testament  for it. with a eclectic but elegant color palette, the shades of hot flushing pink, mysterious black and energetic sea blue paints an enigmatic picture all over his room. his artsy side can only be proudly displayed without snickering and silent laughing at his room, his abode, his retirement, his sanctuary. getting hold of the shirt form the rack , he takes out a matching plain double pleated slacks to go with the shirt, and a dirty gold tie.

dressed and set, he comes down to be greeted by his elder sister who is already munching away on sandwiches prepared by aunty radha. aunty radha is the cook cum nanny who came to the house appointed as his playmate/caretaker. as he grew up, she was later delegated to the kitchen as the second cook. when  the previous one has expired, she remains the sole woman who cooks in this house. with permanent crinkles around the eyes from her ever ready smile, dimples and wiry grey hair, she is the one where Alex is truly comfortable with when he comes home.

“ayya, have a seat, your coffee will be ready in a jiff”. ayya, the very word rings millions of bells in his heart. the word of comfort. the word of care. the word of knowing some is there. he gives her a peck in the cheek “ thanks nana”  and sits down. the way he treats aunty radha never went down well within this household. this apparent as the look on his sisters face is enough to curdle the milk. before she began to say something nasty, her phone rang “ oooo Patrick is calling…….” she rhymes up and snakes away. whose Patrick, Alex wonders. must be yet another guy she is flirting with. sigh, and he gave a distant look at his sister playing with her hair and giggling over the phone, with the occasional glance at him.

 

drafted the first 4 paragraphs. watcha think?