No, I am not talking about the second-row bench in the seventh standard classroom of my high school which I was made to climb for disturbing class decorum. That only taught me how to talk in class without getting caught. I am talking about the two benches that adorned either side of our huge dining table once upon a time. One was strong and sturdy. The other one was a tiny rickety bench on unsteady legs that played seesaw every time one of us placed our bottom on it. This is much before the time when dining benches became fashionable. Every furniture catalogue that I see nowadays has a dining set with one bench, mostly cushioned affairs. Dining benches, entryway benches, balcony benches are all back in vogue now. But we had plain and simple wooden benches who witnessed a lot in their long lives. Early mornings, you could find my drowsy-eyed, sleepy headed brother perched on one of its ends with a Cibaca toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, refusing to fully wake up.
Random thoughts. Sometime stories. Mostly nonsense.