The Tiffin Box

"Ugh! It's already 8. I hope she's asleep by now!" I whispered under my breath as I slyly crawled into my house. It was a dark and quiet night. I slowly tiptoed to the door, making sure I made no noise to wake her up. I peeked in through the door of the discreet, asleep house. I hadn't even taken my two silent steps when suddenly the whole house lit up. And there, standing in her light-colored pajamas with her tilted glasses on the tip of her nose, was my mom, staring straight into my soul as if I had committed a crime." Oh, look who has finally decided to grace us with her presence. "It's my spoilt daughter!" she yelled with her witty sarcasm. "Mom, I was out for a while only. I went to catch some fresh air with my friends! Don’t make a fuss out of it!" I attempted to clarify, but she cut me off before I could speak further.

"Where are you these days?" Any spare time you get, you are out, roaming around with your friends. When will you grow up, honey?" This dim conversation about me being irresponsible and ungrateful nowadays had become a regular part of my life. I had to listen to her blabbering about how some dull teenagers nowadays get into drugs and alcohol! And why it wasn't safe for a girl like me to walk alone and that I should be more careful and sensible. Every time I had to explain to her that I was being careful and that it was different than those kids who were spoilt and stupid. I had to tell her again and again how everything she saw on Facebook was not true and that she just needed to calm down and worry less, but she won't just listen. She could be a little annoying at times! And I had to console her time and again. But I was fine with it. I didn’t mind her. She was my mother after all. If not her, who would worry about me anyway?

Yet, this time it was different; maybe it was her tone or her expression; something in the air felt unusual. I didn't know what to say, and she started talking about how careless I was being nowadays and that I should be more responsible and act mature. I just stood there, feeling confused and sluggish listening to her yell. She was acting a little different, a bit weird, nowadays. The next morning, I woke up to sunlight streaming through my window, and I glanced at the clock to see that it was already 8 AM. After doing some stretching and exercise in my room, I went to the kitchen to make breakfast. After finishing my breakfast, I took a refreshing shower. Then, I sat down in my comfy armchair with a stack of newspapers, ready to read and start the day.

"Ava, where is the Tiffin box I asked you to bring?" My mom yelled from the kitchen. I asked you to fetch it from my office last time; where are they? "She called out with a slight trace of irritation in her voice."Umm, they must be somewhere around here," I answered, having no idea what box she was talking about. "Where are they?" She questioned me again. "Which Tiffin box are you talking about, Mama? Did you check around the cupboard?" "Of course, I checked the cupboard; they're not there!" She was starting to get angry. Wait, I'll help you look for them," I replied, trying to be as helpful as possible. I still had no idea which Tiffin box she was talking about.

"In this house, nobody takes responsibility. I'm tired of being the only responsible person in the family!" "Of course, the Tiffin box isn’t here; you didn’t bring it into the house in the first place." "How could it possibly be here? She yelled. "It was my stupidity to trust it with you anyway." She was talking to herself again. I couldn't bear to listen to her. Her rough yapping stung more than usual today, so I just left the house carelessly. I left the house in a daze, my body on autopilot, my mind stuck on that Tiffin box. I felt dumbfounded and angry at myself. I couldn't remember when she had asked me to fetch it. “Now, where could the Tiffin box possibly be? Could her office still be open?" I thought to myself.

I went to her office and started searching. I looked for the Tiffin box in every possible place where it could be but found nothing. I was puffed, out of breath, and tired. I reached out to the accountant whose office was just aside the hallway and asked him, "Sir, about two days ago there was Tiffin's box left somewhere here. I can't find them. By any chance, do you know where they are?" The accountant, a tall, stooped man with his hair slicked neatly to the side, looked up from behind his cluttered desk. With glasses perched on his nose, he had a round face with magnified, curious brown eyes.

"A tiffin box?" the old man cried with a hoarse voice. "Yes, sir, a tiffin box," I replied. "I did find a small tin box the other day! It could be a Tiffin box. A lady had left it here a few days ago," the accountant replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So you are Alyssa's daughter!" he exclaimed, his eyes magnifying more with curiosity. "Ah, yes, sir!" I replied awkwardly. "Your mother is a great woman! Always helping others, working hard, and putting in extra hours to support you. She has always been nice to me! But she seems a little off track these days; she forgets things sometimes. She must be tired from all her work," he said with a grin. "Yeah, I know," I said, feeling a twinge of guilt. "Oh! You were looking for the Tiffin box; I almost forgot about it. I thought it might get lost, so I kept it in the drawers of the hallway. Go and fetch it. Take good care of your mom," he said, smiling softly.

"Thank you, sir! I will! It was nice meeting you," I shouted as I rushed toward the hallway. On my way back home, several thoughts swirled in my mind. It struck me that my mom was right. What was I thinking? I realised I had been careless and rude, causing her unnecessary trouble while she worked tirelessly day and night for me. I realised how carelessly I had acted. The frustration I had felt earlier seemed so small compared to the guilt creeping up on me now. My thoughts kept reverting back to my mom's exhausted face and to how she'd lashed out at me earlier.

When I reached home, my mother was sitting on the couch, knitting something quietly with her eyes focused intently on the knitting hook. I placed the Tiffin box on the table and said, "I brought it back." There was silence; she didn’t say anything and didn’t even look up. She just kept on knitting. I hesitated for a second, feeling remorse.

 "I'm also sorry for behaving rudely," I said, nearly sobbing. "It's okay," she finally looked up at me and replied, her voice quieter than usual. "I'm sorry for scolding you too. I guess I was being a little harsh as well," she added with a smile. I smiled back as she kissed my forehead.

(The author is studying A levels at Budhanilkantha School.)