I remember my school days, I was a 8year old kid with curly hair, innocent smile and naughty behaviour. After enjoying weekend with my family, I just didn't want to go school. I used to think every Monday morning how to escape but my dad never believed my silly lies, he used to drop me at the school gate, with no other option carrying lunch box in one hand, school bag on shoulders, with a sad face I used to enter the class room.
As days went on, we enjoyed trip that weekday and just forgotten the world, I was back home, looking at the calender, Tommorow is going to be Monday, I had decided I'm not going to step out.
It was a Monday morning, I was not on my bed. My dad was searching for me everywhere, but that time "Table" in the corner joined hands with me.
On the day, I looked at the table, old books were placed on it and covered by a cloth. Opposite to the table a clock was hanging on a wall, I just climbed the table, placed the cloth on books over me, for every one minute i looked at the clock. I was hidden for 10 minutes,but I started to sneeze, this gave a clue to my parents who were searching. Being allergic to dust, doctor advised me to stay home for a week. I was very happy staying home.
From that day, table became a part of my routine, I used to write homework by placing book on it, run around while playing, climb and sit on it, some times fallen asleep.
Eventually, old books were replaced with the pc. Table is one of the thing I approach more oftenly, brings back the smile reminding childhood memories.
Holding my coffee mugs, anger hittings, fingers tapping. A part of busy life.