An Old Umbrella....

knbg · Mar 22, 2013

An Old Umbrella......hanging from a hook in a corner of the room......was reminiscing the good old days............

The day when he came to that home.......
From a big , popular store in Calcutta......which was well known for Umbrellas.......
Being bought by the young daddy during his official trip.....
To his loving, little daughter.......

The excited reception and welcome the little girl gave him............

The gentle handling by the little girl..........
The gleam in her eyes when she proudly flaunted the Umbrella in front of her buddies.....and went....."You know...my daddy bought this beauuutiful Umbrella from Caalcuttaa.......look at the color......it's got a water-proof coating in the under side.....bla....bla....bla...."
The tender care to dry him completely......
Close him........
Arrange the folds properly and finally fasten the velcro tab around him......and putting him back in his cover..........

Years rolled.....and the little girl grew up into a demure maiden.........

The Umbrella aged too.......but was caring and protective........as always........
Escorting her every day to college and then to work..........
Not allowing the harsh rays of sun to tan her......
Not letting a drop of rain to wet her.........
He fondly remembered a couple of times......when she tried to close him and wanted to drench herself....(when her youth was in full bloom).............and he retorted by not budging.........mmmmm....those good old days...........

Some more years rolled.......

And the then little girl got married...........
Moved away to her own nest in some far away land..............
The frequency of her visits came down because of her own commitments..........and her own mid-life crises.....

The Old, faithful Umbrella.....remained in the same corner of the room..........

Now, keeping company with her lone, ageing dad.............

Going out with him on his daily walks .......
Helping him maintain his balance and gait.......and......

Sometimes to shoo off the big,black crows........that come prowling for the baby squirrels that are 'cheep cheep'ing feebly from the crevice of the roof ..........the only company in that house............

Coming back and waiting in the same corner..........
For that unknown day when the girl would visit the home.............
And reminiscing those good old days......

The good old days.......
When the girl was cheerful and bubbly.......

The good old days......
When she grew up to a maiden..........

The good old days......
Of togetherness and bonding...........
Along with her lone,ageing dad............

How would the Umbrella and dad know........?....
That the poor girl was spending sleepless nights.........
Missing them.......and dreaming to visit them..........

Atleast, the dad might know that some day........
If at all she remembered and mentioned this to him during her occasional phone call.......

But the Umbrella...........?

Well...he's been a faithful companion to the daughter and dad all these years..........and he would understand too...........na........

Anitap · Mar 22, 2013

Having spent so much time with her, they both know all too well that she misses them just like they miss her.

Mindian · Mar 22, 2013

Awww Bhargs, that was awesome. Of course, 'the little girl turning into a mature woman and flying out of the nest- new umbrella turning old in time - always the loving dad' connection pulled my heartstrings. I am sure both your umbrella and Dad know how much you miss them.

EverHappy · Mar 22, 2013

Aaaww.. something in this one pulled a string..
May be the delicate description of love between dad-daughter; daughter-umbrella..

You certainly have a flair Bhargavi.. Bought a sweet smile..

Love.

deraj · Mar 22, 2013

Very touchy post Bhargavi.

rgsrinivasan · Mar 22, 2013

Ah! Sweet one it was KNBG. I remembered writing a story earlier in my blog space along the similar lines - it was about a mirror reminiscing the good old days it had, when the girl in the house used it and waits for her to come back after marriage. Nicely narrated.

It was big, very bright and yellow
With blue flowers here and there.
The handle came from a fine willow
And coated so well in varnish fair.

Nobody knew where it was made
And how many were involved in it.
But so many knew where it stayed,
And who was happily carrying it.

It was sold in the city that is known
For crowd and dirt and congestion.
From it, came many saints who roamed
And treated all with such a compassion.

It was given to a little girl
Who cherished it all along
And still prefers it from the whole world
As usual her choice is not wrong.

The number of days she used it
And the number of occasions when
She got so fully drenched yet
Not opening it too counted then.

She grew up, married and left.
I don't know whether it felt
As heavy though it was built
Heavier, but she never felt.

Her dad started using it then
Reminiscing the good old days.
It felt so good to be used when
It got older, yet fine even today.

It had its special place
Etched in her mind so strong,
Along with her dad's face.
Its too lovelier a bond.

Srama · Mar 22, 2013

Awww Bhargavi! That was so touching - there must be something about girls and umbrellas . Enjoyed reading it! Of course they understand and know you miss them.

racr · Mar 22, 2013

Oh,Bhargavi..you have me crying now! I need to talk to my father right now! Yes,all those good ol' days and memories..

Great post as always!

bhuvisrini · Mar 22, 2013

Amazing Bhargavi. You have took us to those good golden days. Thank you so much

Kamalji · Mar 22, 2013

Dear Bhargavi,

Very very touching and poignant. do u know in mumbai we had those black umbrellas called Zebra , madeby a cpompany called Carim and sons, Crawford market, i talk of the seventies and it was a advt on the radio in the voice of Ameen Sayani.

That black umbrella, always with u, a faitfhul companion.Alas chinese umbrellas have killed it.HAHA

Great one.

Regards

kamal