Malayali in London ~ Part-7

Chapter-2:

… House in London …

The house is reddish brown in colour with a hipped roof. The tree in the backyard is poking out from behind. There is a front yard too. It’s not too big. There is a short brick-laid path that leads to the entrance. There is a miniature roof above the door supported by two thin white pillars. Father turns the lock and it makes that sound of a turning gear. He opens the door and we get inside. The sight of the house from the inside is extraordinary.

        The house smells of paint and fresh wooden furniture. It looks even bigger on the inside than it does on the outside. There are boxes, opened and sealed, lying around the house in piles marked with a black marker. Father shows mum the kitchen which is huge. It has a white countertop, dark brown wooden cabinets and a large window. There are glass sliding doors to a small patio in the backyard. I take a step that way when father pulls me and takes me to my room, which is upstairs opposite William’s. The guest room and my parents’ room are on the ground floor and each of them has their own bathroom. There is a shared bathroom a little away from mine and William’s rooms, and a small staircase to the attic on the other side.

        All the boxes labelled ‘Indrakshi’s things’ are in my room, some of which my father has already opened. There is a nice single bed in the corner and a square nightstand with two drawers right next to it. A beautiful white desk is standing right by the window that looks down on the backyard. A white study chair is neatly placed in front of the desk. There is a nice swing of thick white yarn with some white throw cushions hanging from the ceiling between the desk and the bed and opposite the closet next to the door. Father also bought some organizers and put them on my desk. A long vertical mirror is standing beside the closet. A nice, soft rug is laid out on the floor. Then I saw an amazing wooden bookshelf with 6 shelves and two white cabinets. All of my books were already shelved and they contrasted with the dark wood of the bookshelf. The entire room follows the same colour theme. White, pistachio, jade green, lime, sage green, seafoam, tea and pastel blue. In other words, white with pastel blue and six different shades of green.

        Father puts his hands on my shoulders and says, “I know green is your favourite colour, that’s why I had the sheets, curtains and other stuff in this colour theme. Do you like it?” I smile and say, “oh I really hate it.” My father laughs and plants a kiss on the side of my head. I love it when he does things like that.

        We spent the rest of the day unboxing and settling our things. Dad took us to dinner outside and we just came back. We’re all in the living room. I’m sitting on the rug on the floor with the book I was reading yesterday in my hands. My brother is scrolling through his phone and sitting on the couch with my parents. My father’s phone receiving a notification breaks the silence. He reads it and turns, “so, remember the old friend of mine I told you about? He’s going to come to visit us tomorrow along with his daughter, who is about William’s age.” William perks up, “what’s her name, and where does she work?” I look up at my brother and say, “shouldn’t you be asking the name of father’s old friend first rather than his daughter’s?” William turns away from me and huffs, but I can tell he’s red in the face. Father giggles and continues, “her name is Sarah, and she is an Adolescent and Child Psychiatrist. Her father’s Adrien Dumas, a neurosurgeon like myself.” William turns even redder once my father answers his question. He gets up and says that he’s going to bed since he’s got his interview tomorrow. Then he storms off to his room. Once we hear his bedroom door close, all of us laugh. “You’re an expert at roasting your brother, Indrakshi,” my mother says through her laughs.

        We all go to our rooms; I place the book I was reading on the flight on my new bookshelf and go to bed. I set most of my stuff into place during the day, so it’s not that messy anymore. Tomorrow I’m going to meet Mr. Dumas and his daughter, Sarah, I’m curious to see what they’re like, but also a little terrified at the thought that I’m going to have to meet new people with different attires here, it is a challenge enough than to be introverted and having to do that at the same time. My new bed is really soft, it’s like sleeping on a cloud, but it’s going to take some getting used to, my bed back in Kerala was a lot harder. I fall asleep thinking about whether I’m going to ever be able to make any friends here.

.       .       .

I get up, go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I didn’t sleep too well last night, so I’m a little tired. I get down to find my father at the dining table, it’s going to be weird eating on one since I’ve always eaten on a paaya. My brother is in the bathroom, I heard him flush the toilet, and I wondered whether he slept well. He probably did, judging by the fact that he’s such a heavy sleeper unlike myself. Mum brings in breakfast and sets in on the table. She made some grilled cheese for me and brought some chai, an Indian tea, and cinnamon buns for dad and William. I’m pretty sure I’d be eating the same if I weren’t allergic to cinnamon. Lucky me. William comes down and sits across from me. “You look like you slept well,” I say once he’s seated. He grabs the cup and replies, “passed out the minute I hit the pillow,” “lucky you, I didn’t sleep too well. I’m already a light sleeper and I had to sleep on a new bed last night,” my mother now sits down at the table and says, “you’ll get used to it in a few weeks.”