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Coffee Stain

By Sristy Sharma (Vnée)

We have to face our Karma in this life itself. Mother always said that, always, on any and every occasion. They were not helping her with chores, they were returning home late, they didn’t agree with her, they weren’t on the assigned tasks within minutes, anything. And it was not like the insinuation ended on them, no; it applied to anyone and any act which in her eyes was blasphemous enough to attract bad karma points.

However, until today her words didn’t create much of the desired effect. Yes, the chores were complete; yes, there was induced movement and yes there were reflections of that guilt, in spots and underlined, but there were, but there were also eye rolls, grumbles, arguments, huffs, scoffs, and all manners of gestured displeasure and disagreement, slighted in passion, but present. That statement hardly was ever met as obediently as she would have wanted it to, but today.

Today not only the words are being appreciated, but their depths are being pondered few connections have been established with fellow statements stored in memories.

Truly circumstances are the best teachers. After all, the lessons missed by parents and teachers can only be taught by life, and in the simplest of manners.

It was after a couple of months that locks bound in chilly winds were clicked open under spring’s sun, and the sight that greeted was if not ideal quite practical, dusty, however, to no effect. That’s the magic of a successful backpacking trip, dust and all seem like too simple trifles to lose over one’s mind, and spring is a beautiful season, especially when one’s dwellings are surrounded by the abundance of its true beauty and blessings. So, everything was alright and remained so until; backpacks were put down; covers were shifted; curtains were drawn; windows were opened; pantry was hunted; coffee was brewed; cleaning agents were gathered; coffee mug was held; the chair was pulled; a sigh of satisfaction was let go as the seat was taken; coaster was reached for mug and results of the hurried acts of departure were discovered. Everything was alright until the last event of the series.

It has been a couple of hours since the possible reversals of acts of a couple of months ago have been pondering about. From net searches to DIYs everything has been tried but the coffee stain which has bled and fermented itself within the table over the past couple of months refuses to budge. Numerous combinations of bleaches have been tried, the act has also been cried over, but nothing. It was expected that at least it would blur out or lose its fervor, instead, all those agents worked as its friends and gave the stain and table freedom from dust and a new sheen like that of re-polish.

How lasting could one hurried mistake be, and how punishing and permanent could its effects be. One might wonder. Aren’t mistakes to be made and learned from, and enjoy the rectification process, or do they just remain a reminder. Are people who move on with their memories that smart and strong and those remaining as normal. Does a mistake require the art of Kintsugi to move on? And are all mistakes like coffee stains, fermented over time, bled into one’s life always there after all art, perception, recoveries, and everything? And if the answer to each is yes then it is true We have to face our Karma in this life itself, just the intensity and its permanence could be debatable but not erasable.

By Sristy Sharma (Vnée)

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