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RUSTIC DOOR
#TheWritingProject
The DOOR creaked before he could even react. He, as usual, then took out his pocket watch from his old trench coat pocket and looked at its hands. There was a moment of silence and then a sigh could be heard…
The children peeked through the door as if asking for permission to enter some feline’s territory. The man just nodded and a trail of children could be seen entering the room one by one. Upon entering the room, the smell of camphor and incense sticks bombarded them. Whiffs and smoke of the fresh burn out incense was still visible. The room was furnished with mahogany wood tables and chairs, with lamps made of black wood that fitted snugly with the interiors of the room. The lamps gave out yellow translucent light, as if to just gently highlight the room and its decors. Not an inch of the dark mustard coloured wall was visible. Every bit of it was covered with some antique artifacts and old paintings which made the room look like an ancient piece of relic from a museum.On the center of one such wall, was the painting of a young man with thick mustache and neatly trimmed hair.The children then huddled together and sat on one of the large sofas. The sofa was just large enough to fit them all in one without any major discomfort.
They then started to look in the direction where the old man sat. The old man was sitting slouching on one large velvety couch beside which there was a small mahogany side table where his necessary medicine and keys were kept all huddled together.The man then changed his position and the couch creaked. The book on his lap moved with him.
And then silence.
Then the man looked intently at each of the 4 pairs of eyes that were fixated upon him and cleared his throat. “Where were we when we last left off?”. His raspy voice echoed throughout the room. The three boys glanced at each other and muttered nothing. The girl who was sitting at the far end of the sofa spoke. “You were finished with the museum story, you said that the next story name was rustic door”. The man then glanced at the girl sideways and muttered something under his breath. He then looked up at the roof of the wall and sighed.
“Then rustic door it is.” He roared as if to announce something grand. The children could be seen grabbing each others’ hands but listening to the man without a sound. The man flipped through the pages of the book with his glasses pinched on his nose and then he finally found the page where they last left off.
*****
The story starts with a man striding along with long steps. I on the other contrary, being a short frame build woman had a very tough time to match up with his pace. “Here is the hall” … he said as his voice echoed and rumbled throughout. He then continued to swirl his mustache which he took such good pride in as he fumbled and searched for something in his pocket by the other hand. Meanwhile, I started to examine the hall.The walls were made of wood with floors covered with carpet throughout the room. Lanterns with carved wood designs clinged on every wall with its dear life. The room did look very old and vintage but not a speck of dust was to be seen even though thousands of books were stacked one over each other. The center of the room was occupied by a large round chestnut table with copper coloured carvings running at its circumference. On the center of the table, lies a terracotta coloured candle holder with all its candles lit and flickering. I put all my belongings on the center table and pulled out my camera from my sling bag to click some photos. For the next few minutes, all that was heard from the room was the sounds of clicks and the footsteps of the man sluggishly walking behind. At the end, at the far right corner of the hall was a large piece of tapestry hung on the wall clipped between two lanterns….
*****
“What is a tapestry grandpa?” one of the boys asked the old man.
“ It is sort of an art…. handwoven … and hangs on the walls. Right grandpa?” the girl answers instead.
“Yes it drapes on the walls like curtains and often depicts a story” the grandpa replied.
“And what type of story did that tapestry depict?” the girl questioned again full of curiosity.
“For that…. We have to read the story. Don’t we, little child…”
“Yes grandpa!” all of them replied in unison.
At some distance from the house, the rumbling of clouds could be heard. The old man’s grey eyes reflected the lights made by lightning clouds. The sky became much darker and gloomier. Slowly the man stood up from his couch and started to drape the curtains with his feeble hands. The child then looked and started to help him with the same. He then went around every corner of the room and started to light the candles which were held up beautifully by crafted candle holders. After doing such strenuous activity he hobbled again to his couch and sat there again( which creaked again) with his book on his lap. He picked up his glasses from the side table and then started to flip through the pages again.
“Where were we again ?” he asked, holding the book utterly confused.
“ You were at the part where the woman saw the tapestry for the first time…” the girl replied.
“Ah yes! Found the line” while adjusting his glasses on his nose he started to read again.
*****
At the end, at the far right corner of the hall was a large piece of tapestry hung on the wall clipped between two lanterns. I touched the tapestry with my bare hands to feel the fibers.The man slowly whispered “ It is handwoven, and is one of the best antique pieces in the country.” I looked at him as he nodded and took a peek at his pocket watch which he took out a while ago while he was fumbling his pockets. He continued - “We don’t have a lot of time left here. Others are in line as well.” I nodded and started clicking photos of the tapestry vigorously. It was very colorful - the design of it. The center of the artwork had a large aura of light scintillating from the center, and it was surrounded by wooden carved figures all of various shapes and sizes. Some figures were goats, others carved mirrors, bulls and chalices etc. All interwoven together to make a beautiful masterpiece.
*****
“I don’t think it is a masterpiece…. It sounds very creepy.” said the boy who sat right in the middle of the sofa.
“ I agree grandpa, why would the writer call it a masterpiece.” chirped in the girl right in between.
“ Objects or even people full of mystery are always a fascination to us as humans. Nature builds us in that order.” said the grandpa while looking up at the ceiling.
“ But curiosity always kills the cat, grandpa.” said the middle one again.
“ Well that might be. But we are not cats are we?” said the grandpa laughing slowly.
“ I would have ran away, if I saw something like that.” said the girl moments after silence.
“But you still haven't, and sitting here listening to the story. NOW then all of you sit quietly and let me finish the tale for once and for all.” The old man’s tone had some anger in it.
There was no noise to be heard after him. Far away down the room, gusts of wind swept through the windows, even through the curtains, making some of the candles extinguish. The faraway end of the room thereby became much darker than the rest of the parts in the process. The girl saw this but decided to keep quiet. She didn’t want to anger her grandfather even further. The old man then looked at his book, then at his pocket watch and then again at his book and started to narrate the story again. The children focused hard.
*****
I lifted the tapestry, and lo and behold the door sat right beneath it. Carvings like that seen throughout the room were right in front of me - full of life. The door itself was rustic and plain looking with carvings surrounding it, identical to that of the table and tapestry combined. The deep dark wood had a certain kind of smell which could be identical to that of the soil after monsoon showers. The smell of sandalwood drifting along and mixing together made a mixture of aromas that I have never smelt before. I opened the door slowly and the door creaked out loud and the echoes could be heard throughout the tall walls of the hall. I entered the room, and for the next few minutes all that was heard from the room was,
Click- the sound of my camera.
Then silence.
Then the sound of the closing doors followed by the scent of the burnt out candles.
*****
There was silence afterwards. The old man looked up at the faces of children who were expecting more. He closed the book and put it neatly on his side table.
The girl then asks, “ Is this it?”
The old man replied’ “What were you expecting ?”
One of the boys replied “A real ending , I suppose. So what exactly happened to the woman?”
“It is upto your imagination to believe what happened to her…Now off you go,we are already quite late.” He replied while looking at his pocket watch.
The boys then one by one with their dismal faces started to form a line and were about to leave just like the way they entered. The girl on the other hand was quite deep in thought still sitting. Then suddenly, she turned her head around like that of an owl and started to scan the room. The old man who was not used to this sort of behavior perturbed asked her, “What happened child.”
The girl then replied “Nothing grandpa.” She started to leave the room like others. But then abruptly stopped in front of the painting of the man. “This man also has a mustache…grandpa.” she continued.
She then turned to look at the old man and noticed he was not his usual self, even though the man was looking at the painting his mind seemed to be somewhere else looking at the distance. As one of those phrases goes when the mind and the body are not in sync.She then observed sharp gusts of wind lifting up the curtains and blowing more and more candles out, where it reached to the point that most of the room became dark. But grandpa was not giving a second glance to them at all. This was not the usual grandpa she knew. She wanted to change the topic but nothing was coming to her mind to strike the conversation. As a result she was standing awkwardly there beside him with her hands clenched and waiting for him to say something…anything even.
Moments later the old man looked at her face, then at the painting and said, “ Indeed he does. You are the curious one from that lot aren't you.?” he smiled.
The girl smiled in return as well and then ran off before saying - “Until the next story grandpa”
The old man nodded back. The room was empty and dark now. He walked sluggishly across the room to close its door which the children had left open before leaving.
He then returned back to the painting then stroked his face where he once had his mustache, then felt the heavy metal of his pocket watch in his coat and then finally looked at the keys which were on his side table and smiled. Beside him the girl stood once again just like she stood before the tapestry years ago...
"Do I still look good just like the painting, hon." the old man asked.
"You always looked mesmerizing in my eyes darling". The woman said.
He looked over his shoulder and saw her smile as she disappeared into thin air.
© All Rights Reserved
Khushi Yadav
The DOOR creaked before he could even react. He, as usual, then took out his pocket watch from his old trench coat pocket and looked at its hands. There was a moment of silence and then a sigh could be heard…
The children peeked through the door as if asking for permission to enter some feline’s territory. The man just nodded and a trail of children could be seen entering the room one by one. Upon entering the room, the smell of camphor and incense sticks bombarded them. Whiffs and smoke of the fresh burn out incense was still visible. The room was furnished with mahogany wood tables and chairs, with lamps made of black wood that fitted snugly with the interiors of the room. The lamps gave out yellow translucent light, as if to just gently highlight the room and its decors. Not an inch of the dark mustard coloured wall was visible. Every bit of it was covered with some antique artifacts and old paintings which made the room look like an ancient piece of relic from a museum.On the center of one such wall, was the painting of a young man with thick mustache and neatly trimmed hair.The children then huddled together and sat on one of the large sofas. The sofa was just large enough to fit them all in one without any major discomfort.
They then started to look in the direction where the old man sat. The old man was sitting slouching on one large velvety couch beside which there was a small mahogany side table where his necessary medicine and keys were kept all huddled together.The man then changed his position and the couch creaked. The book on his lap moved with him.
And then silence.
Then the man looked intently at each of the 4 pairs of eyes that were fixated upon him and cleared his throat. “Where were we when we last left off?”. His raspy voice echoed throughout the room. The three boys glanced at each other and muttered nothing. The girl who was sitting at the far end of the sofa spoke. “You were finished with the museum story, you said that the next story name was rustic door”. The man then glanced at the girl sideways and muttered something under his breath. He then looked up at the roof of the wall and sighed.
“Then rustic door it is.” He roared as if to announce something grand. The children could be seen grabbing each others’ hands but listening to the man without a sound. The man flipped through the pages of the book with his glasses pinched on his nose and then he finally found the page where they last left off.
*****
The story starts with a man striding along with long steps. I on the other contrary, being a short frame build woman had a very tough time to match up with his pace. “Here is the hall” … he said as his voice echoed and rumbled throughout. He then continued to swirl his mustache which he took such good pride in as he fumbled and searched for something in his pocket by the other hand. Meanwhile, I started to examine the hall.The walls were made of wood with floors covered with carpet throughout the room. Lanterns with carved wood designs clinged on every wall with its dear life. The room did look very old and vintage but not a speck of dust was to be seen even though thousands of books were stacked one over each other. The center of the room was occupied by a large round chestnut table with copper coloured carvings running at its circumference. On the center of the table, lies a terracotta coloured candle holder with all its candles lit and flickering. I put all my belongings on the center table and pulled out my camera from my sling bag to click some photos. For the next few minutes, all that was heard from the room was the sounds of clicks and the footsteps of the man sluggishly walking behind. At the end, at the far right corner of the hall was a large piece of tapestry hung on the wall clipped between two lanterns….
*****
“What is a tapestry grandpa?” one of the boys asked the old man.
“ It is sort of an art…. handwoven … and hangs on the walls. Right grandpa?” the girl answers instead.
“Yes it drapes on the walls like curtains and often depicts a story” the grandpa replied.
“And what type of story did that tapestry depict?” the girl questioned again full of curiosity.
“For that…. We have to read the story. Don’t we, little child…”
“Yes grandpa!” all of them replied in unison.
At some distance from the house, the rumbling of clouds could be heard. The old man’s grey eyes reflected the lights made by lightning clouds. The sky became much darker and gloomier. Slowly the man stood up from his couch and started to drape the curtains with his feeble hands. The child then looked and started to help him with the same. He then went around every corner of the room and started to light the candles which were held up beautifully by crafted candle holders. After doing such strenuous activity he hobbled again to his couch and sat there again( which creaked again) with his book on his lap. He picked up his glasses from the side table and then started to flip through the pages again.
“Where were we again ?” he asked, holding the book utterly confused.
“ You were at the part where the woman saw the tapestry for the first time…” the girl replied.
“Ah yes! Found the line” while adjusting his glasses on his nose he started to read again.
*****
At the end, at the far right corner of the hall was a large piece of tapestry hung on the wall clipped between two lanterns. I touched the tapestry with my bare hands to feel the fibers.The man slowly whispered “ It is handwoven, and is one of the best antique pieces in the country.” I looked at him as he nodded and took a peek at his pocket watch which he took out a while ago while he was fumbling his pockets. He continued - “We don’t have a lot of time left here. Others are in line as well.” I nodded and started clicking photos of the tapestry vigorously. It was very colorful - the design of it. The center of the artwork had a large aura of light scintillating from the center, and it was surrounded by wooden carved figures all of various shapes and sizes. Some figures were goats, others carved mirrors, bulls and chalices etc. All interwoven together to make a beautiful masterpiece.
*****
“I don’t think it is a masterpiece…. It sounds very creepy.” said the boy who sat right in the middle of the sofa.
“ I agree grandpa, why would the writer call it a masterpiece.” chirped in the girl right in between.
“ Objects or even people full of mystery are always a fascination to us as humans. Nature builds us in that order.” said the grandpa while looking up at the ceiling.
“ But curiosity always kills the cat, grandpa.” said the middle one again.
“ Well that might be. But we are not cats are we?” said the grandpa laughing slowly.
“ I would have ran away, if I saw something like that.” said the girl moments after silence.
“But you still haven't, and sitting here listening to the story. NOW then all of you sit quietly and let me finish the tale for once and for all.” The old man’s tone had some anger in it.
There was no noise to be heard after him. Far away down the room, gusts of wind swept through the windows, even through the curtains, making some of the candles extinguish. The faraway end of the room thereby became much darker than the rest of the parts in the process. The girl saw this but decided to keep quiet. She didn’t want to anger her grandfather even further. The old man then looked at his book, then at his pocket watch and then again at his book and started to narrate the story again. The children focused hard.
*****
I lifted the tapestry, and lo and behold the door sat right beneath it. Carvings like that seen throughout the room were right in front of me - full of life. The door itself was rustic and plain looking with carvings surrounding it, identical to that of the table and tapestry combined. The deep dark wood had a certain kind of smell which could be identical to that of the soil after monsoon showers. The smell of sandalwood drifting along and mixing together made a mixture of aromas that I have never smelt before. I opened the door slowly and the door creaked out loud and the echoes could be heard throughout the tall walls of the hall. I entered the room, and for the next few minutes all that was heard from the room was,
Click- the sound of my camera.
Then silence.
Then the sound of the closing doors followed by the scent of the burnt out candles.
*****
There was silence afterwards. The old man looked up at the faces of children who were expecting more. He closed the book and put it neatly on his side table.
The girl then asks, “ Is this it?”
The old man replied’ “What were you expecting ?”
One of the boys replied “A real ending , I suppose. So what exactly happened to the woman?”
“It is upto your imagination to believe what happened to her…Now off you go,we are already quite late.” He replied while looking at his pocket watch.
The boys then one by one with their dismal faces started to form a line and were about to leave just like the way they entered. The girl on the other hand was quite deep in thought still sitting. Then suddenly, she turned her head around like that of an owl and started to scan the room. The old man who was not used to this sort of behavior perturbed asked her, “What happened child.”
The girl then replied “Nothing grandpa.” She started to leave the room like others. But then abruptly stopped in front of the painting of the man. “This man also has a mustache…grandpa.” she continued.
She then turned to look at the old man and noticed he was not his usual self, even though the man was looking at the painting his mind seemed to be somewhere else looking at the distance. As one of those phrases goes when the mind and the body are not in sync.She then observed sharp gusts of wind lifting up the curtains and blowing more and more candles out, where it reached to the point that most of the room became dark. But grandpa was not giving a second glance to them at all. This was not the usual grandpa she knew. She wanted to change the topic but nothing was coming to her mind to strike the conversation. As a result she was standing awkwardly there beside him with her hands clenched and waiting for him to say something…anything even.
Moments later the old man looked at her face, then at the painting and said, “ Indeed he does. You are the curious one from that lot aren't you.?” he smiled.
The girl smiled in return as well and then ran off before saying - “Until the next story grandpa”
The old man nodded back. The room was empty and dark now. He walked sluggishly across the room to close its door which the children had left open before leaving.
He then returned back to the painting then stroked his face where he once had his mustache, then felt the heavy metal of his pocket watch in his coat and then finally looked at the keys which were on his side table and smiled. Beside him the girl stood once again just like she stood before the tapestry years ago...
"Do I still look good just like the painting, hon." the old man asked.
"You always looked mesmerizing in my eyes darling". The woman said.
He looked over his shoulder and saw her smile as she disappeared into thin air.
© All Rights Reserved
Khushi Yadav
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