My room is in a mess. It always is. Maybe i should use word 'super' here. At this point of time and space. It's very apt. The messiest place is obviously my desk.
I've always more than a dozen things(which are both required and not) on my desk. I've ten pens which do not work, or have no ink in them. Plenty of scrap, lying everywhere, which is of no use to me. A few plastic bags. B's art - i'm on a preserving spree, and she bent on a writing one. Bookmarks, books, cds', a whistle, my radio instrument, a watch(if not two), my scarf, a really good-looking key-bunch, a cap, three/four bags, my glasses, it's case, currency-right from loose change to crisp hundred rupee notes....
Mother complained a lot when i initiated on my recklessness. I whined in front of aunt. Aunt supported me, saying that it's my room now, and that mother should let me maintain my room my way(M and i shared the room, before it came into my possession). I beamed when she told me that. Perhaps, i've started loving her more, since then. And i don't forget to repeat those golden words, whenever mother speaks against my room.
My room is getting shabbier day by day. Minute by minute would be more convenient. Mother's keeping mum. She thinks that she can make me clean my room using a pretext.
I think i know my habits, better. Especially in this context. Aunt, you know, i like you a lot!
By the way, what's on your desk?