On the face of mother earth, every individual is alleviated in the shape of two emotionaly worshipped bodies: Father and the heavenly gift by the sustainer; Mother. Each continent explores different shades for these affinities. Keeping the length to southasia in particular to my self, Father is hierarchially an unofficial king of the house where as mother shares stratum of distincts to her partner; a servant alias wife. With the naive cry which I fluted from my oral cavity after the moment of my birth, I found my mother in the walls of kitchen and affairs of pity house holds. Her shouts on insane behavior from her kins, the caring attitude of mother, the godliness in her cleaning stuff, and her ruling tracts on the floor of my house are the things which I always observed in my sane presence.
For times, I at home always imagined my father being in kitchen without the wings of reality and one day this fancy alias imagination led to reality when my father tried to make and serve tea to us in the absence of my mother. In those seconds of sheer delight, I just counter assumed myself to an observer. with soft hands and high hopes of a tasty tea , he stepped on the threshold of kitchen. Ignited the fire like his pride and googled for the kettle throwing some of utensils in every corner of the kitchen. Keeping his hands off his back, he inspected the ratio of fire twice every minute and waited anxiously the water to boil. Smile stretched his lips, when he observed the volume of water volcano rising to the head of kettle, on the spoon of tranquility he stirred the sugar of happiness that he is performing an enormous task, tea leaves for the color of austerity and milk for the purity of his hard-work without any adulteration of emotions or material. Later on, as for tea cups are obligatory and he placed it on the dining table with two broken in the dishwasher. While organizing the table he realized he is forgetting something and rushed towards the kitchen like a furious warrior and tried to extinguish the fire resulting in a jolt to the stove which unfortunately occurred with the splash of tea on his arms and our two hours with a skin specialist in a near by hospital.
