What’s in store for the mother-in-law?

Good one with an excellent ethical, not my article though….I happened to read it in Hindu today…thought I would post it here….

Want to know about a strange and wonderful story of a 10 x 8 room?
A draft plan lay on the table, and around it sat Mrs. and Mr. Malik, and the architect. “This room could be 10 x 8,” said Mrs. Malik for the third time, pointing to a square in the plan, but the other two weren’t responding.
“The Maliks were going to have a house of their own in Delhi. They had purchased a plot in the most fashionable colony of the town sometime ago. Now that they were posted back to Delhi, they thought, they might as well have the house built…”
Thus begins a story titled “A room 10’x 8’” by Kartar Singh Duggal, included in a CBSE English reader for class XII. Duggal, 90, is an eminent Punjabi writer, recently honoured with the Sahitya Akademi Fellowship. He has served as director, All India Radio, and director, National Book Trust. Duggal was awarded Padma Bhushan in 1988, as a page about him on http://rajyasabha.nic.in informs.Back to the story…
The architect explains to Mrs. Malik that the room is meant to be a store, and hence depicted with smaller dimensions. “Yes, but I thought it could be my mother-in-law’s room and after her it might be used as a store-room,” says Mrs.Malik.
The architect doesn’t understand. So, Mrs. Malik explains haltingly: “I mean… my mother-in-law could use the room for the present… As you know she is old and infirm… She isn’t going to be there for… and after her it could be converted into a store-room.”
What does Mr.Malik have to say? “He too, was of the opinion that the store should be a little bigger. It is always better to have a commodious store-room so that one can move about the trunks more freely. Then it is also more convenient to keep it tidy,” narrates Duggal.
Thus the discussion concluded with a change in measurement for the room adjacent to the kitchen, as per Mrs. Malik’s suggestion. “The courtyard would be a little narrower but that didn’t matter much…” The story progresses through construction of the house under the careful supervision of Mrs. Malik. For, she had decided to settle down permanently in Delhi with the children, even if Mr. Malik were to go on transfer elsewhere.
“Mrs. Malik took an untiring interest in the construction of the house. She would be seen standing at the site with her umbrella throughout the day. She supervised every detail. At times she would give a hand to the masons and others. She was the first to arrive at the construction site and left when everyone had gone away. She ensured that there was no wastage of material and the labourers were not idle. Before long the house was completed. Mrs. Malik insisted that she would have new furniture made for the house; she would not let the old furniture enter the house, not a piece of it.”
But, as luck would have it, the Maliks did not move into the new house. The government had requisitioned the place and the rent offered was too good to refuse.
Then came a transfer, and it was to be many years before they got a Delhi posting. Meanwhile, their daughter had been married; and Mrs. Malik’s mother-in-law passed away.
After the Delhi posting, the son’s marriage took place, Mr. Malik retired from service, but the Maliks continued staying in a rented house, along with the son and daughter-in-law, because the government continued to occupy their house.
“Mr.Malik was still fighting with the government for the release of the house when his end came. He passed away without being able to live in his house even for a day.”
Adding a twist to the irony was the de-requisitioning of the house by the government three months later.
“Mrs Malik’s daughter-in-law was keener than Mrs. Malik to shift to her own house. The moment they were restored possession of the house, she had it painted and polished… The furniture dealer had been ordered to supply a number of pieces.”
The day came when the family was to shift. “It was raining incessantly… Mrs. Malik was sitting in the back seat of the car. She had a strange sinking sensation,” narrates the author.
“A drive in the evening always makes me go to sleep,” she spoke in a whisper. “I am not going to eat. I have no appetite. I would like to sleep.” The servants were busy shifting the luggage from the porch, and laying dinner on the table. “Then you better retire to your room,” said the daughter-in-law pointing to the 10’x 8’ room and her son conducted Mrs. Malik to it, holding her hand. She was feeling terribly drowsy. Half-asleep and weary, Mrs. Malik is lost in memories of her husband and her plans. She is able to hear snatches of conversation from the kitchen.
It is her daughter-in-law’s voice: “The house is otherwise very well planned. It only lacks a store-room. I would like to have a big enough store…”