When someone spills some tea on your white shoes

Debdeep Dey
Nov 7 · 2 min read

On a rainy afternoon in October, I wanted to have a cup of tea. Having bought a steaming cup of “chai”, I headed to the cafeteria to sit back and unwind. On the way, I came across a friend who passingly mentioned how happy I looked. I am happy, thought I, revelling at the beauty of the overcast afternoon. I acknowledged him and moved on. Moments later, the frenzied gesture of a colleague caused me to spill half the cup on my much-beloved pair of white sneakers. Time slowed down for a couple of moments but I eventually found my way to a seat in one corner of the deserted cafeteria. As I settled into my insipid cup of tea, or rather what remained of it, the thought of my stained sneakers somehow slipped out of my mind. The poignant afternoon gave way to a sullen evening and the day came to a close; a close friend of mine drew my attention to the dismal state of my shoes. I retired that night and put the shoes out to dry, only realising that they were probably beyond redemption.

A couple of days passed, as days tend to do, and the shoes started to gather dust. Well, they had been replaced by another pair. I didn’t have time to try and remove the stains as I got busy with the trivialities of my daily routine.

The mother noticed this and suggested that I should clean them before the dark, ugly stains settled in for good. When she realised that I had probably given up on them, she made the effort of preparing a certain concoction and applied it on the stains. I noticed this and finally decided to attend to them, mostly out of the guilt that she had to clean my shoes because I wouldn’t.

So, I finally sat down and worked at them with a brush. I worked at the stains for a good hour, trying one method after another and finally, the stains seemed to be disappearing. With renewed enthusiasm, I ended up cleaning the shoes in their entirety. As I was putting them out to dry, I couldn’t help but marvel at what was now a pair of almost impeccably white shoes. They were still very visibly old, one could also make out the faint outline of the stains that were, but they were usable again. I smiled.

I couldn’t shrug off the thought, how sometimes, all that it takes to get things back on track, is an hour’s worth of effort, a tiny glimmer of hope, and a brush.

And of course, a Mother.

Debdeep Dey
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