J's Musings

The night light was switched on and off on an average of 30 time a week. Making that maybe 4 times a day. Once when the family woke up. Then when the family went to sleep. And the rest two times, it was the kids playing around.

Mr. and Mrs. Sato had lived in the Sato House for 15 and 45 years respectively. Mr. Sato was 40 and had lived in the house since his marriage into the Sato family. Mrs. Sato or Natasha had lived there her entire life. Likewise, their kids, ages 7 and 8, were also destined to spend their entire childhood here.

Natasha had grown up in the large Japanese house with pride. Her life was never restricted to walls and roof of this place. Yet, something had kept her there, be it her family’s presence or that she wanted her kids to grow up with the same safety she had.

Mr. Sato had grown up in a relatively smaller home, with a smaller family. He had also grown up extremely fond of bigger families. It was a perfect opportunity when he found out the woman, he was with had a bigger family than his.

‘Come down for breakfast,’ this phrase started the day in the Sato House for over 7 decades now.

Natasha’s mother was 70, and ambled down the stairs, while her father, was already down, probably whisking batter for breakfast. While her sister and she bumped in the hallway hurrying to work or getting dressed. And their husbands gave their father a hand in the kitchen.

The home had a total of 6 members living there. And over the 9 decades multiple things had changed, the residents and interior included. Yet, one thing stood the test of time, and that was the night lamp, on, off, on, off and on. All day long, until the kids sleep.

3 generations had fallen asleep and woken up in the middle of the night to it. To the thin China base covered in florals, and the silk top. The warm yellow glow was in habit of illuminating dreams and imaginations.

Another thing that persisted would be how Saturday mornings went. A call from the kitchen, excited and tired feet rushing to get the first batch of food. Then the children and dads would watch some TV drama while the moms went out for lunch.

Just like every other such week end, Mr. Sato shouted out for his wife and children.

‘Papa,’ Keiko put her hands up, as her father picked her up and threw her into the air. They were like that, part 1 and part 2, original and duplicate, the teacher and the student.

Natasha came down a few minutes later to wrap her daughter in a hug and scarf down the dishes her father and brother-in-law had made.

Hina came down after 15 more minutes, [the late sister], scarfing down her food at a competitive speed. Soon the two were off, competing to get ready first. While their mother waited in the sitting area to go out with her children.

An hour passed before the daughters came down to see their mother.

‘Mamaa,’ Hina whined.

Twice, three times, again; no effect. So, Natasha took the risk, and poked her mother. No response.

‘Osukee,’ she called out to her husband. ‘Papa, Kai’ her sister called out. Soon the family was gathered in one place, the kids softly sobbing.

Part 1 by,

Janx 🙂