08 Nov My Room
Anyone who has ever moved homes would know what a painful and yet fun-filled process it is. The process of shifting is as torturous as it can be and yet the adventure and experience of doing up a new home comes with its own share of exciting discoveries and disappointing compromises.
Ever since the decision had been made to move to this new house, I had starting mentally decorating my room.
I started looking up designs for more ideas to do up my room. It didn’t matter that half of those ideas would have needed me to be a multi-billionaire. Trees growing inside living rooms, wall-to-wall walk-in wardrobes and shoe racks, beds that folded up to reveal bookshelves, and gardens the size of football grounds – I wanted it all.
One look at the new place and my multi-billionaire dreams came crashing back to the ground. There was no space to create football-sized landscaped gardens and wall-to-wall walk-in wardrobes. I realigned my dreams to match the floor area and envisioned lush blue walls, lots and lots of plants, luxurious rugs and bedspreads, and a wall-to-wall bookshelf with a swivel TV cabinet – something which I long harboured a desire for. I even wanted to bring down an entire wall and replace it with glass to allow an unrestricted view of the golf course.
Of course, I hadn’t even considered the locality’s rules on alterations and constructions. The glass wall was soon scrapped, as was the wall-to-wall bookshelf.
Finally, I started giving thought to practicality and need. Important points like space constraints had to be kept in mind too, and all this when my sense of aesthetics and colour combinations is terrible.
Major efforts were initiated to convince my parents to allow me to build a tiny garden in the balcony – as a compensation for the garden I couldn’t have. I was apprehensive they would object for reasons of practicality and the maintenance it would require, and they did but in the end, I managed to convince them.
A checklist was already forming in my mind – colours, carpets, bookshelves, balcony garden, room fragrance, window decor, etc. I turned to Google and Pinterest for ideas on designs, layouts, room décor, colour combinations, and decorative items. My choice of colour for the walls (blue) was shot down right away. All the walls would be in the same shade of white, I was told. I immediately protested. White is stark and boring, I said. But when it is an army of two decisive parents pitted against an aesthetically-challenged me, what could have been my chances?! Tearful negotiations and emotional blackmail led to a mutually acceptable compromise – I could have one of the walls painted in a colour of my choice. Instead I settled on an attractive design for one of the walls and chose a lovely Indian-style motif to be stenciled on it. However small, it would be enough to give a pop of colour to the otherwise plain white room, I consoled myself.
The painting job has since been long finished and the painter having forgotten to paint the stencil has left the wall white much like the rest of the house. Unable to do anything other than morosely stare at the blank space every morning, I figured an alternate option to decorate the spot. I plan to put up a wind chime or a wall hanging there. Unfortunately, I am yet to find something that is both, to my liking and within my budget.
With the walls being so bare and boringly white, I feared it would adversely impact my writing. Colour brings creativity and blank walls meant blank page, I was convinced. I would be left staring – first at the blank walls and then the blank white page. It may well have been a silly superstition but it bothered me. I desperately wanted to add some colour in order to encourage creativity and free imagination.
Therefore, for the curtains, I selected a soothing design of green leaves on a (you guessed it!) white background. I added another layer of sheer fabric for a soft whimsical French-style look.
More green was added to the room when pots and plants were brought in and put in the balcony. I started spending most afternoons gazing at the small saplings, cooing and cajoling them to grow faster just so I could have more greenery around the room.
The newly ordered bookshelves as well as the laptop desk were delivered yesterday and have now found their own exclusive spaces in the room.
After I had arranged the books on the shelves, I raided my parents’ room as well as scoured the house to pick some showpieces to take to my room. Soon my parents discovered that a statue of the Buddha was missing from the living room. They also figured a delicate glass turtle had disappeared. As my parents wondered aloud where the missing pieces could be, I went into hiding. Unfortunately, all three of us were discovered as soon as they walked into my room. The Buddha and the glass turtle were resting comfortably in the bookcase in plain sight while my big bulky frame behind the curtains gave away my whereabouts. (Stupid curtains, it’s all their fault!)
I now sit on my bed and proudly look around the room. It doesn’t look stark and boring at all. Unfortunately, inspiration still eludes me because I am too busy doing one of three things – admiring my room, cooing to my plants, staring at the view outside the window.
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