That my mother is a lady of multiple talents is known.
She also has an uncanny ability to magically make things appear and disappear at her own will. There is no other explanation for things to go missing and appearing back into your room.
I have a feeling she counts the number of flowers on each plant in the garden every single day because today she tells me the hibiscus plant had 18 flowers, and one flower had 9 petals (normal petal count is 5). She said this with so much excitement that I am not sure which one of us is the mother.
Anyway, so last night, a pillow in my room went missing.
You see, I was busy watching CID as my parents went to sleep and I went to my room well past midnight. I didn't turn on the lights because if I don't see any entities standing near the mirror, ready to spook me, then they don't exist. I nicely saw an episode of Criminal Minds as I oiled my hair in the darkness.
An hour or so later, I decided to crawl on to the bed and go through askreddit and read myself to sleep.
But as I got on the bed and tried to find the pillow to prop up, I realised the pillow was missing. OMG.
Where is my pillow? It is my protective gear. I hug it as I sleep. It also acts as a shield against the early morning sunlight which is reflected off the mirror-ey windows of neighbour's bedroom that is right across from my room. I don't draw the curtains because if I don't see the sunlight, I will never wake up.
But where is the pillow? Do I look under the bed.. and see if it developed a mind of its own and rolled under?
But then what if I look under the bed and see a couple of pairs of eyes staring at me. You see, if you don't see them, the others don't exist. (no, really, I don't quite believe in ghosts, but dude, you never know what's under your bed, ok?)
Somehow I managed to sleep. I had to hug the spare square pillow (missing pillow is a cylindrical shaped one) and it sucked. And then I woke up as soon as the first ray of light reflected off the neighbour's window.
Oh, no, my pillow.
But where is my pillow?
Maybe the mother would know.
Now that it is morning and she has had her daily dose of adrenaline rush of putting clothes into the washing machine, let me ask if she has any clue what happened to the pillow.
I walk down groggily, even as my father tells me I look like Lalita Pawar this fine morning.
And then as I ask mom, "mummy, where's the blue pillow?"
"Oh, that, I gave it to Mathur," she said matter-of-factly.
Mathur is the raddiwala.
What? Why?
Why give the raddiwala my pillow? MY PILLOW.
"He said mummy, spare pillow ho to dena,"
FIRST OF ALL, MATHUR IS OLDER THAN MY MOTHER. WHY IS HE CALLING HER MUMMY?
Second of all, WHY IS MY MOTHER GIVING AWAY PILLOWS TO RADDIWALAS WHO CALL HER MUMMY?
OMG.
Nobody loves me.
I am up for adoption.
Anyone willing?
She also has an uncanny ability to magically make things appear and disappear at her own will. There is no other explanation for things to go missing and appearing back into your room.
I have a feeling she counts the number of flowers on each plant in the garden every single day because today she tells me the hibiscus plant had 18 flowers, and one flower had 9 petals (normal petal count is 5). She said this with so much excitement that I am not sure which one of us is the mother.
Anyway, so last night, a pillow in my room went missing.
You see, I was busy watching CID as my parents went to sleep and I went to my room well past midnight. I didn't turn on the lights because if I don't see any entities standing near the mirror, ready to spook me, then they don't exist. I nicely saw an episode of Criminal Minds as I oiled my hair in the darkness.
An hour or so later, I decided to crawl on to the bed and go through askreddit and read myself to sleep.
But as I got on the bed and tried to find the pillow to prop up, I realised the pillow was missing. OMG.
Where is my pillow? It is my protective gear. I hug it as I sleep. It also acts as a shield against the early morning sunlight which is reflected off the mirror-ey windows of neighbour's bedroom that is right across from my room. I don't draw the curtains because if I don't see the sunlight, I will never wake up.
But where is the pillow? Do I look under the bed.. and see if it developed a mind of its own and rolled under?
But then what if I look under the bed and see a couple of pairs of eyes staring at me. You see, if you don't see them, the others don't exist. (no, really, I don't quite believe in ghosts, but dude, you never know what's under your bed, ok?)
Somehow I managed to sleep. I had to hug the spare square pillow (missing pillow is a cylindrical shaped one) and it sucked. And then I woke up as soon as the first ray of light reflected off the neighbour's window.
Oh, no, my pillow.
But where is my pillow?
Maybe the mother would know.
Now that it is morning and she has had her daily dose of adrenaline rush of putting clothes into the washing machine, let me ask if she has any clue what happened to the pillow.
I walk down groggily, even as my father tells me I look like Lalita Pawar this fine morning.
And then as I ask mom, "mummy, where's the blue pillow?"
"Oh, that, I gave it to Mathur," she said matter-of-factly.
Mathur is the raddiwala.
What? Why?
Why give the raddiwala my pillow? MY PILLOW.
"He said mummy, spare pillow ho to dena,"
FIRST OF ALL, MATHUR IS OLDER THAN MY MOTHER. WHY IS HE CALLING HER MUMMY?
Second of all, WHY IS MY MOTHER GIVING AWAY PILLOWS TO RADDIWALAS WHO CALL HER MUMMY?
OMG.
Nobody loves me.
I am up for adoption.
Anyone willing?
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