Skip to main content

ONCE UPON A TEAPOT

Image
SANGEETHA KAMATH

 

 


               ONCE UPON A TEAPOT 

The quaint streets of Olde Mageia were fringed by an assortment of shops. The Teaware Store, which was shaped like a huge teapot, stood in the center of a rose garden at the crossroads of this street. The curator, a wizened old man, had a mop of hair so white that he looked as ancient as the Earth itself. He had a twinkle in his friendly blue eyes and fine lines around it— signs of him smiling and serving everyone with joy. 

I stood at my usual spot looking out at the bleak weather, raindrops splattering in the rose garden, beating down hard on the window panes and blurring the scenery outside. The warmth of the fireplace did nothing to banish the gloom in my heart. My best friend who always stood beside me with her cheerful face was leaving today to her new home. One of her hands was outstretched in a perpetual friendly wave — a spout of a teapot and the other formed a curve like the handle of a teapot.

But then, teapots we were,ceramic ones. Her, a Daisy Duck and I, The Ugly Duckling, the last one standing in the teapot section. Daisy teapot was getting bubble wrapped and packed. I knew that in her heart she was feeling torn. Doubly, because she was separated from Donald teapot some weeks back who was gift-wrapped to go to a faraway land, never to be seen again. Over the past couple of months, my siblings, the yellow chicks too, left one by one and so did mama. 

When I had first emerged from the furnace, my glazed ceramic face was as gray as a shimmering rain cloud. My spout was an outstretched frail and unsightly wing which held little appeal to little girls who wanted to host tea parties for their dolls. So, I was left behind only to bid tearful goodbyes to my family and friends. 

Dusk was gathering now and the shop was closing for the day. This was the first time that I would be spending the night alone in the dark. With my duck family all gone, with my friends packed away to foster homes, all that remained in this shop was darkness. 

Christmas was ages ago and none wanted me. It seemed like I would be the oldest resident in this shop, save for the ancient owner. My dull gray feathers too were beginning to fade and so were my hopes to go into a family with doll parties. Whoever said "Believe in magic, was a liar! Bah!" 

***

The silvery chimes of the bells that hung at the door tinkled the arrival of a pretty young thing. A ten year old girl bounded in with her mother close behind her. "Slow down, June. Not so fast…" 

June was dressed in a cloak sequined with stars and a matching pointy hat. She carried a tiny basket full of wildflowers and herbs.

“Mommy, I want an Ugly Duckling teapot for my birthday present. I've never seen one before." Wonder of wonders, someone finally chose me ! I hoped that I wouldn't be packaged. I didn't like to be tied up. She looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes and told the curator that she would place me directly in her basket. There was a shiny glass ball tucked amidst the wildflowers along with a strange shiny stick which spurted sprinkles of light. I marveled at the sights outside on the way home.

Great preparations were made for June’s birthday party. Children arrived with their dolls, presents and their teapots. I was filled to the brim with an aromatic, delicious amber liquid steeped in chamomile and lavender. It warmed my heart as I stood proudly as a centerpiece on a lace doily with the steaming tea inside me. I was surrounded by plates of cucumber-egg sandwiches, cups of ice-cream and jelly, and a huge bowl of… fruit punch! The birthday chocolate cake stole the show with strawberries on top. 

So this is what a doll party looks like!

I glanced to my right and to my pleasant surprise what did I see, but Daisy teapot who had arrived with a little child! With her ceramic arms in an outstretched wave and a smile plastered on her ceramic face, she beamed at me with much joy. I was reunited with my cheerful friend ! June patted my head soothingly. 

Did she know…?

It was well into the party when suddenly, a squabble broke out among the children. Before I knew what was happening, I was roughly grabbed by my handle and smashed to the ground. The tea made an amber puddle on the floor and was spreading fast. I felt like it left me bleeding. My wing was broken, my head rolled under the table and pieces of me went flying all over. Adding to my horror, another boy grabbed Daisy teapot and smashed her to the ground as well. If I could gasp, I would... 

Daisy's outstretched arm was lying near my broken wing and her face with her fractured smile was close to my head comforting my splintering pain. Something broke deep inside me to see Daisy in smithereens…

June shooed everyone out of her house. She looked at me assuredly and with a swish of her shiny stick, rained colourful pixie dust on Daisy and me…and…we were intact again! 

I looked at myself and I had regained my original luster and glaze too. I was as good as new ! 

Oh boy! What hocus-pocus is this ! Who IS this girl…?

With a wink, June whispered, "Duckling, I hear what you're thinking. I'm a wizard and I make wishes come true…I'm keeping Daisy teapot with me and you both will be together forever." Daisy's face was as bright as the sun! 

Today was such an unbelievable day and June, the lil wizard made me believe in magic! 


Author Notes : Credits to Walt Disney for borrowing names of Daisy Duck and The Ugly Duckling.

Pic Courtesy: Pixabay

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 



 





Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

ANAM CARA

SANGEETHA KAMATH
The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see.  A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird , its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has sai...
13 comments
Read more

THE BIG BAD WOLF( DAY 17, LETTER T)

SANGEETHA KAMATH
                          CHAPTER 16                    THE BIG BAD WOLF  The pigs snarled like proper rascals, fixing their cold steely eyes on the Wolf's cottage. How dare he refuse to part with his cottage! When the pigs demand, it's given to them---no questions asked! Porkinn limped, Baconne was soggy, Swinedell rubbed a sore bump on his head, but they were far from defeated. Swinedell snorted, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Wolf thinks 'e's posh, don't 'e? " Baconne sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "We want the cottage!” He growled. Porkinn cracked his fingers, his sly glance darting about.  The pigs crept towards the back door, their footsteps silent on the soft grass. They spotted the Wolf through the kitchen window, stirring a pot of steaming stew for dinner. They kicked the door in, the wood splintering jaggedly. The latch gave in....
6 comments
Read more

ARIEL AND BLUE-BLOOD SHOES

SANGEETHA KAMATH
  The waves crashed violently against the craggy mountainside and the moonlight shone on the lacy froths. As I waded through the water and stepped on the wet sand, I remembered another night which was many moons ago. The same glinting lights through the palace doorways and windows, the fireworks adorning the night sky like shooting stars and meteors. A royal celebration with all the works and the guests dressed up in their best finery and aristocratic jewelry. Of noble births they all were. Blue blooded as the matriarch had pointedly told me once.  That unholy night! That night of icy hearts and howling laughter, the echoes of cackling that followed me till I ran on wobbly legs to find my place of comfort where the land met water… Hot tears streaming down, I regretted those days when I lost my heart to a man so spineless. Had I not dragged him to the shore, he would have been a mangled mass after being torn apart by the piranhas and other monstrous maws.  How I regret…Oh!...
10 comments
Read more

A-Z Blogging Challenge Theme Reveal

SANGEETHA KAMATH
Hey everyone! April is almost upon us and it reminds me of my childhood summer vacations, visiting my cousins in different cities, playing with them and watching movies late into the nights, brunches, more outdoor skips and hops and when the boiling sun drove us indoors, how the tangy, icy lemonade pitchers awaited us.  April is also about April showers, new beginnings and of late —the month of blogging! I'm excited to announce that I'll be participating in the A-Z April Blogger Challenge , starting on April 1st! This challenge is all about pushing myself to create new content, connect with fellow bloggers, and have immense fun while doing it. Throughout the month, I'll be posting daily(except on Sundays) on a variety of topics, ranging from personal reflections to mixed random bags of thoughts especially bordering on memoirs and non fiction. That's something I excel in apart from writing fantasy and the paranormal.  2025 will see my blog Sanguine Allegory bustling wit...
7 comments
Read more

QUEST FOR THE BEARS (DAY 18, LETTER Q)

SANGEETHA KAMATH
                      CHAPTER 17             QUEST FOR THE BEARS  The next day, the pigs trotted off to spread mischief in the woodland, their ricky-ticky steps scuffing the damp path into a mess of overturned leaves and broken twigs. Goldwynn stayed crouched behind the wonky rain barrel until the sound of their pig-trouble thinned, then thinned again, then dissolved into the larger quiet of the trees. She didn’t move right away. The woods had a way of listening after the pigs left, as if it wasn’t sure they were truly gone. The air held its breath with her. When she finally stood, the silence felt heavier than noise. No birds called. The light came down in broken pieces, the sun playing hide-and-seek through beech and alder, dappling the forest floor with spools of pale gold. The ground under her boots was soft and cold, a black earth that smelled of truffles gone to rot and old rain. It stuck to ...
6 comments
Read more