This piece describes accommodation which looked uncomfortable for a stay.
Minutes ago, I had not been the same. I was excited about coming here for the vacation. As soon as we were free from our dull and demeaning days of school, my father declared that we were going out for our first-ever vacation. My fantasies about the trip made me scurry to pack my bags. I dreamt of a place that was tranquil and serene with a great aura that resembled my childhood paintings.
However, the expectations drained into the well when we graduated into our room in the inn. The porter who assisted us seemed to be as old as my father but a little too endearing. A deep cut crossed his face reaching out from the corner of his eye to his cheekbone. His unkempt hair supplemented his weird appearance. To me, he gave the impression of a person who was dual-faced. His body language was jittery and the way he responded to my father’s questions was somewhat disrespectful. Analyzing him further, I realized that his eyes were stuck onto my face, uncertain if he could read my mind.
Before long the door had opened with a creaking sound, the glimpse sent shivers down my spine. I had a strong sensation of entering a haunted house; I felt nauseated. The first glimpse of the room happened to be of the wall facing me, which unless the door opened was hidden behind it. It was distastefully decorated with posters. More than being used for decoration, it seemed that the posters hid the cracks and cement patches. The posters followed a theme; I felt that the person who had adorned the rooms with those pieces of art seemed to be an insanely true and fanatic fan of some musical bands. Nevertheless, I could not relate the posters to be of any bands I prefer. All the same, my expression had changed from a blissful to an unexpectedly fiery one. The other walls of the room had a sour cream colour on them. They stood erect, dismally facing each other as if mourning the gloom of the place.
A glance towards my face, my father had sensed the dilemma. At least, for now, he convinced me of being seated on the chair. The only chair in the room had cracks on the edges, the brown rustic paint of it gave way to the silvery and corroded layer beneath. The moisture and humidity had taken the life of this chair for granted; the cold metallic layer beneath gave hints of disuse and neglect.
The cemented floor of the room gave the picture of a relief map: with cress-crossed lines and cracks. My eyes scanned each nook of the room resulting in more negative shades to the stay. The corners were uncleaned; years of dust and dirt have encrusted on them, making them inseparable.
I extended my legs making myself comfortable on the chair with the nape of my neck touching the cold metal frame, aggravating the discomfort in me.
The dense air surrounding the room was filled with an overpowering staleness leading us to discover the seepage in one of the walls of the room. The unwelcomed moisture played on my mind; I felt irritation on my skin. I started scratching my skin like a flee pestered dog.
My sister was all eager to examine the beddings and that led her to uncover the double-bed in the corner. The sheet was ragged and worn, stains were several and it had become pale with excessive use and improper washing. The mattresses were uneven and gave complete promise of a backache if used for sleeping. I could see swells of cotton prominently visible from all possible areas. It looked crumpled as if facing its last days.
To add on to my annoyance, my parents continued bawling at each other. I could hear my mother arguing about choosing this place for the vacations. Furthermore frustrated, I decided to pace out. My stern steps on the wooden floor outside my room warned me of a disaster. The wooden planks that were placed unevenly on the floor creaked under me and scared me out of my wits. It convinced me that staying here for a minute more could drive me crazy. Firstly the grumpy porter; then the unpleasant odour; the unending discoveries about the room’s mayhems and my gloomy faced sister convinced me of speeding out to the streets.
-Adityalekshmi