Home Sweet Home
'home sweet home, here I come'',sang my happy heart.After all I was going home for my summer break.But the moment I reached the house which had only a slight resemblance to my beloved home,my mouth fell open.Had I reached the wrong house?Seven garbage bags,stinking beyond measure stood lined up against the wall near the entrance,the spill over effects all over the malodorous floor. As I stood outside on the threshold in a state of Hamletian indecisiveness,a powerful baritone fell into my ears,''welcome home'' ,it boomed from the inside of the house.There was no mistaking this voice ,but why was my husband welcoming me into the neighbour's house?
Before I could say something ,out stepped the man with the powerful baritone,and smiled from ear to ear,reminding me of Gabriel Oak in FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD...''when farmer Oak smiled,the corners of his lips spread until they were within an uneven distance of his ears...''. Well there was no mistake about it..the man who emerged out of the neighbour's house was my husband!Resplendent in a week old stubble,and dishevelled appearance he was at his shabbiest best or worst..depends on one's perspective ,you know.As I looked at him in utter stupefaction,he once again smiled and beckoned me inside.Had we been invited to the neighbour's house for lunch?Did the lunch have SHABBINESS as its innovative theme?With diffident steps I followed him inside,my eyes sweeping around the neighbour's house..but wait,the house had a striking resemblance to my home, although every effort had been made to stamp out my touch.
It was a mess-merising fusion of colours..black and white colours jostled as I stood gritting my teeth and seeing red ! The newspapers..a week old.. were making headlines all over the house,on the chair, under the divan,in the kitchen,clothes which I never knew existed had suddenly emerged on the scene,and lay scattered in colourful disarray,cutlery seemed to have lost all sense of direction and found its way into the drawing room.Clenching my fists,and gritting my teeth I was now on the war path.I readied myself to launch into a verbal assault ,when he said'' sit'' in the sweetest tone possible,and the sweetest smile suffused his face.I sat on the chair which doubled as a laundry bag,looking at the week old flowers in the flower vase ,which seemed to be singing a sad ditty.Ah,I sighed .Librans are known for their disarming smiles,and the man standing in front of me knew how to disarm foes with that smile of his!He smiled and I surrendered my arms and ammunition.A war monger had been transformed into a pacifist..and all due to a smile!
Before I could say something ,out stepped the man with the powerful baritone,and smiled from ear to ear,reminding me of Gabriel Oak in FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD...''when farmer Oak smiled,the corners of his lips spread until they were within an uneven distance of his ears...''. Well there was no mistake about it..the man who emerged out of the neighbour's house was my husband!Resplendent in a week old stubble,and dishevelled appearance he was at his shabbiest best or worst..depends on one's perspective ,you know.As I looked at him in utter stupefaction,he once again smiled and beckoned me inside.Had we been invited to the neighbour's house for lunch?Did the lunch have SHABBINESS as its innovative theme?With diffident steps I followed him inside,my eyes sweeping around the neighbour's house..but wait,the house had a striking resemblance to my home, although every effort had been made to stamp out my touch.
It was a mess-merising fusion of colours..black and white colours jostled as I stood gritting my teeth and seeing red ! The newspapers..a week old.. were making headlines all over the house,on the chair, under the divan,in the kitchen,clothes which I never knew existed had suddenly emerged on the scene,and lay scattered in colourful disarray,cutlery seemed to have lost all sense of direction and found its way into the drawing room.Clenching my fists,and gritting my teeth I was now on the war path.I readied myself to launch into a verbal assault ,when he said'' sit'' in the sweetest tone possible,and the sweetest smile suffused his face.I sat on the chair which doubled as a laundry bag,looking at the week old flowers in the flower vase ,which seemed to be singing a sad ditty.Ah,I sighed .Librans are known for their disarming smiles,and the man standing in front of me knew how to disarm foes with that smile of his!He smiled and I surrendered my arms and ammunition.A war monger had been transformed into a pacifist..and all due to a smile!
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