Piggybank

PIGGYBANK

I had not noticed that my father was already back from work. I was in my room, on the floor, doing homework. It was maths and maths made me hungry. Leaving pencil and copy on the floor, I ran into the kitchen.

Our kitchen was small. On a corner of the kitchen there was the water filter where sometimes my dad kept fruits. The basket there was empty, seemed like he had not brought fruits in weeks. On my left was the dining table where things like water bottles, glass and some daily medications were kept. My father had some regular medications.  At its side there was the gas cylinder which was connected with a gas burner. It was on a slab and under it were drawers and where ready to eat items like biscuits, chips and more things were stored. In desperation I pulled all drawers and checked all the spaces where we kept food. Alas, there was nothing to eat. My desire to eat was only growing.

Since there was nothing at home at that moment, I wanted to go out and buy something. But at that time, I did not have any money. The only time when I used to have a big amount was during Dashain. I still remember, in Dashain that year, I had a total sum of 150 rupees. All money used to go into the piggybank. I could get some money from the piggybank, but it was on top of my fathers’ wardrobe. Getting the money out was not a trouble but reaching it, Was. The wardrobe was really tall, taller than me and taller than me standing on a chair.

I was trying to stretch myself to reach the top of the wardrobe where my piggy bank was.

I tried increasing my height by putting a stool on the chair where I was standing before.  My piggybank had a small opening on its back and from there I could pull out some money using a compass. It was not the first time I was doing this, so I was confident in doing it again. But for that I had to have a hold on the piggybank.

At that moment, I was almost standing on my toe and my upper body was stretched at its fullest. The tip of my finger could feel the smooth ceramic of the piggybank and I was trying hard to get a grip of it. My hands were already sweaty, and drips of sweat had already started tickling my face.

What are you doing?  A bold voice behind my back said.