RedPaper.in – Short Story
By: Preeti Vyas | RedPaper.in
It’s another winter morning. And once, twice, then thrice, the alarm kept ringing. As usual, he woke up late but this time from the loud voices in his house. The morning clatters, the sound which is repetitive and omnipresent, made him realize that he is home. He is home after a long drawn life of his own, in the city, where he earned and spent. He has spent considerable life away from his home wandering around with his free will, living the way he wanted to. He did it all whatever he felt like, from being a teenager to a grown-up man, he has seen a number of shades in his life. But now, he is saturated from that too. Resting in his bed after so long made him think of all those memories he has lived and savored till now.
He sat at his table, staring out his window, he saw those kids playing. He imagined those days of fighting with his elders for playing there for long in those evenings. He sees his old car, owning whose possession took him multiple arguments and planned tactics. He went back to the time when he struggled for his freedom, working according to his wants. But now he is got them all and now he has to make his own choices. Choices, which are not an easy game in this progressive world.
Aroma of the simmering tea and the incense sticks are spreading into the whole house. Clean house, meticulously arranged corners and smooth spread linens on the bed, he hasn’t seen it for a while now. The things which then seemed an obligation, now seem like a sense of pleasure for him. He feels as if, he is no more an escapist, he has lived all his freedom. Now, all he wants is to stay here for long.