Yesterday, 01:59 PM
(This post was last modified: Yesterday, 03:46 PM by rupak24. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Hey guys!
Long time lurker,veteran exbii user. Been missing out these years, i waned write a story adding my thoughts/observation/perspective. Here it goes!
**Chapter 1: THEORY OF INNOCENCE**
Year : 2007
The bell rang at 1:30 PM sharp, and Arjun practically ran the last stretch home through afternoon heat. Backpack thumping against his back, uniform shirt half-untucked, tie loosened like a noose he couldn't wait to escape. The auto ride had been bumpy, sweaty, and loud - now all he wanted was food, and sleep. The driver shouting at cows blocking the narrow lane, but now the sight of their small two-storey house with its green-painted gate felt like relief.
He pushed open the front gate tiredly. The house smelled like fresh summer. Dad was at work till late, as usual. The living room fan hummed low, curtains drawn against the sun, making everything soft and dim. Mom Madhurima was already at the door, wiping her hands on the anchal of her yellow saree. Her hair was in a loose bun with a few strands escaping, a small red bindi on her forehead, She smiled wide the moment she saw his bubbly eyes at the corners.
(Arjun! aww you look so tired!? Come inside.)
She opened her arms. Arjun dropped his bag right there on the veranda and ran into her hug. She wrapped him tight—soft, warm, smelling of Pond’s talcum powder and the faint jasmine from her hair oil. Her saree was breezy against his sweaty cheek, the cotton slightly damp from the kitchen heat. She rocked him gently side to side, one hand stroking his hair.
(How was college today? Any interesting thing happen?)
Arjun pulled back just enough to talk, still half-hugged. The usual rambling, Mom listened with that patient, loving smile—nodding at all the right places. When he finished, she ruffled his hair. Lunch was already laid out on the dining table along with Arjun's favorite Rasamalai.
(Ah that's enough she stopped him. Now go, wash your hands and face and eat. I’ll lie down for a bit too)
Arjun ate fast - hungry from the morning.
She walked to the bedroom. The dark brown wooden bed had a thin mattress and a cotton bedsheet printed with tiny blue flowers. Mom lay down on her side, facing the wall, saree pallu became loose with her position, two arm tucked under her cheek. She sighed contentedly as the fan stirred the air. Arjun washed his face, changed into a vest and shorts padded in after her. He climbed onto the bed, mattress dipping lightly under his weight. Mom didn’t wake, she had light peaceful snore. He hesitated for a second, then lay down close behind her and slowly rested his head on her tummy.
Instant peace.
That soft, warm pouch under the saree was like the best pillow ever-gentle rise and fall with every breath, warmth seeping through the cotton straight into his cheek. He nuzzled in a little deeper - innocent, sleepy, just like he’d done since he was six. Nose brushing lightly over the fabric and the skin. It was safe. It was home. No thoughts, no exam worries, no traffic horns just the steady thump of her heartbeat under his ear and the faint scent of her skin mixed with the saree’s starch.
Long time lurker,veteran exbii user. Been missing out these years, i waned write a story adding my thoughts/observation/perspective. Here it goes!
**Chapter 1: THEORY OF INNOCENCE**
Year : 2007
The bell rang at 1:30 PM sharp, and Arjun practically ran the last stretch home through afternoon heat. Backpack thumping against his back, uniform shirt half-untucked, tie loosened like a noose he couldn't wait to escape. The auto ride had been bumpy, sweaty, and loud - now all he wanted was food, and sleep. The driver shouting at cows blocking the narrow lane, but now the sight of their small two-storey house with its green-painted gate felt like relief.
He pushed open the front gate tiredly. The house smelled like fresh summer. Dad was at work till late, as usual. The living room fan hummed low, curtains drawn against the sun, making everything soft and dim. Mom Madhurima was already at the door, wiping her hands on the anchal of her yellow saree. Her hair was in a loose bun with a few strands escaping, a small red bindi on her forehead, She smiled wide the moment she saw his bubbly eyes at the corners.
(Arjun! aww you look so tired!? Come inside.)
She opened her arms. Arjun dropped his bag right there on the veranda and ran into her hug. She wrapped him tight—soft, warm, smelling of Pond’s talcum powder and the faint jasmine from her hair oil. Her saree was breezy against his sweaty cheek, the cotton slightly damp from the kitchen heat. She rocked him gently side to side, one hand stroking his hair.
(How was college today? Any interesting thing happen?)
Arjun pulled back just enough to talk, still half-hugged. The usual rambling, Mom listened with that patient, loving smile—nodding at all the right places. When he finished, she ruffled his hair. Lunch was already laid out on the dining table along with Arjun's favorite Rasamalai.
(Ah that's enough she stopped him. Now go, wash your hands and face and eat. I’ll lie down for a bit too)
Arjun ate fast - hungry from the morning.
She walked to the bedroom. The dark brown wooden bed had a thin mattress and a cotton bedsheet printed with tiny blue flowers. Mom lay down on her side, facing the wall, saree pallu became loose with her position, two arm tucked under her cheek. She sighed contentedly as the fan stirred the air. Arjun washed his face, changed into a vest and shorts padded in after her. He climbed onto the bed, mattress dipping lightly under his weight. Mom didn’t wake, she had light peaceful snore. He hesitated for a second, then lay down close behind her and slowly rested his head on her tummy.
Instant peace.
That soft, warm pouch under the saree was like the best pillow ever-gentle rise and fall with every breath, warmth seeping through the cotton straight into his cheek. He nuzzled in a little deeper - innocent, sleepy, just like he’d done since he was six. Nose brushing lightly over the fabric and the skin. It was safe. It was home. No thoughts, no exam worries, no traffic horns just the steady thump of her heartbeat under his ear and the faint scent of her skin mixed with the saree’s starch.
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