The Colourful House – By the daughter of the colour blind father

I like how furniture can set the tone of the home. I love the way you can transform a dull home to a vibrant place with the right colors and the right furniture. Furniture complements a house. Everytime I walk into Ikea, the interior designer in me springs to life, and my mind buzzes with possibilities.

Here is my pet peeve – the interior of my parents beautiful home never looks good in my eyes because of the ghastly furniture. Bookshelves littering the house, each one a different colour, dimension and size! Unnecessary tables, that once served their purpose.
I sound harsh, you may think, but what house boasts of a green dining table, with a pink stool near a maroon fridge? Which house boasts of 3 sky blue almirahs, sharing the wall with a yellow shelf (70 by 30) and a parrot green shelf (65 by 40)? Oh, and I did forget to mention the bright blue tiny almirah with a white archaic typewriter on it!
The furniture was not always like this – our house did have stately furniture at one time. The furniture grew old, as it is expected to after 30 years. The sheen was gone. One day my father called in a handyman and handed him our dining table, and asked him to relaminate it. “What colour sir?” asked the man innocently, and my father assured him that he left it to his fine
judgement, and any colour was okay with him. The handyman left with a sense of satisfaction – he liked green, but none of his customers seemed to have an eye for green table-tops. Secondly, the table wasn’t going to live in HIS house – and that my friends is the story behind the green table-top!

One would think that this bad experience would have shaken his trust in humanity, and subsequent furniture transactions would be handled with more care. This is where you under-estimate my father. He may be a whiz-kid with stocks, never once making the same
error in reading the balance sheet, but when it comes to furniture, “Egregious” is the word I would choose.

He had our house painted, and while at it had another idea – why not paint the pale shelves? He asked the painter about the colours he had remaining. “From the painting of this house sir?”, he asked, his face dripping with innocence. My father was taken in by this simple soul who was willing to give away paint that he had remaining from other jobs. He flushed, and told him to use any paint he may have remaining.

The painter and the aforesaid handy-man were thick pals no doubt, and the handy-man had probably thrown a drink on the house at the local pub that he had gotten rid of his green laminate. The painter not to be out-done used his bright pink paint on the stool, parrot green on one shelf, bright yellow on the other shelf, bright blue on the small almirah. Word is that the local drunkards had a party unheard of in the parallels of Uppilipalayam town Panchayat – it was all on the house, paid for by the painter.

This is how the house looked after the dining table and paint jobs:

The sky-blue colour cupboards have another story. Appalled at the uncanny choice of colours by the benign painter, my father decided to normalize the equations by painting the remaining almirahs the same colour (his favourite colour: sky blue)
So, that’s how our house looks now.


Now, please tell me your impressions of this house’s furniture, and join me in my appeal to have the book shelves replaced with woodwork for Phase 1.
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