She chose her colours wisely. She wore a fiery green emerald ring that she got as a gift for her first anniversary. Her husband had gifted her as a surprise. The clothes she worn had a heritage look with geometric patterns and patchwork on her golden coloured sari. The pearl necklace and earrings gave a retro effect to her personality. She saw her image in the mirror. The mirror exhibited confidence with which she carried herself to the hall of her house. She decorated her house with bright colours. For the upholstery and curtains, she chose a neutral backdrop. The interior looked fresh and the tone was set perfectly with flowers in the foreground. she loved marigold and daisies and placed it her oil painted vases, The décor looked perfect and the joy of seeing her husband after a year long brimmed her heart. She wanted to throw an element of surprise and thus she painted every articles and artefacts in her house with lovely splash of colours. The food aroma filled the house with sugar, Jaggery, and coconut scent. She was lost in a reverie for a minute and thought about all those happy times that they had spent and how that is going to get repeated in a few minutes. The bell rang. She smoothened her saris and gave one last look to her house. As she opened the door, she saw paramedics and a stranger outside her house. The patio was then occupied with a stretcher which extended till the hospital van. She was awestruck and let them in. He body was covered with white cloth and the cloth has all red colour shades. The blood stains entered the house too. The scent of flowers were replaced by the medicinal stench which suffocated the nostrils. The house had all colours except red and her husband fulfilled it with his blood. Every colour founds its own place in the house but the colour of her face was lost forever.
“I wanted to tell Mama that it did feel different to be back, that our living room had too much empty space, too much wasted marble floor that gleamed from Sisi’s polishing and housed nothing. Our celing was too high. Our furniture was lifeless: the glass tables did not shed twisted skin in the harmattan, the leather sofas’ greeting was a clammy coldness, and the Persian rugs were too lush to have any feeling. But I said, “You polished the etagere.” " The above text appears when Jaja and Kambili return from Nsukku, their Aunty Ifeoma’s house, and witness their place as dull and lacking warmth even though the house glistened like a palace. The warmth that Aunty Ifeoma’s house had carried during the days they spent despite having a nondescript house and where they prayed every day for Peace and Laughter. Laughter among all the things. Because Laughter was valued in their house everyday despite living with shortcomings something that Kambili hardly got to experience in own h
O! Tragic,Sharanya.
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