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I Didn’t Know That Changing Homes Would Help Me Travel Back in Time
My father pulls the tallest stool to the bedroom and places it against the wall. He balances himself with one hand on the wall and climbs up slowly. Once he stands upright, my mother provides instructions. She asserts that all the cardboard boxes have to be labeled so that they can be easily identified. After some attempts, my father successfully locates the necessary box, and together with my mother, he brings it down. I, who until then patiently waited in the side, pounce upon the box as soon as it touches the floor. Hurriedly, I scramble through its contents. My mother points to a yellow container and tells me that it is the one. On opening it, I find the ribbons and laces that we had been searching for. I am elated, for I had carelessly postponed a school project until the last minute(read nine at night), and when I needed to complete it, I could not find the required items. Thankfully, my mother remembered the things in the loft. It saved my day.
Unlike the attic in Hollywood movies, the loft/attic in our region is a large area that forms a structure a little below the ceiling. One cannot walk into it but only put things, and it is reachable only using ladders/high stools and tables. Barring the living room, the loft is available in all the…
