A Place to Pause - That Table #acnotes

the immovable asset in one's lifetime and the play called life that revolves around it.

Oct 31, 2025

Pause, Push Rewind and Press Play.

While you’re here, I wish you could recline a bit and think about your childhood. What are the most common objects that come to your mind, when you walk down the memory lane? Well, give it a shot and make a list in your mind.

Here’s mine:

Colour TV with wooden twin shutters/ sliding doors on either sides and 12 Channels (no remote)
14 Watts Cassette Player/Tape Recorder aka
Two-in-one with Radio
Diwan / Single Cot placed a few feet away from the TV
(We didn’t have a couch or sofa back then)
Metallic Folding Chairs (4) that shuttled between living and dining room
Wooden Teapoy at the Living Room
Singer Sewing Machine
Foldable Dining Table (that doubled as an ironing board and study table)

I’ll stop the list here since I will be writing about No. 7 (no surprise there) —
the dining table from my childhood was large yet easy to carry around, which could be folded and placed near the wall when not in use, but I’ve seldom seen it folded. Beyond its purpose of being a dining table, it used to be the place where I used to do my homework, dad used to iron his factory and my school uniforms on Saturday or Sunday evenings, and Mom used it to chop vegetables, fruit and prep for Christmas snacks. And some times it would double as a step stool to pick something from the attic. Also, this is where the Cassette player was placed, at the edge, partly on the window sill which was at the same level. More importantly, this table was where friends and relatives, sat down for lunch/dinner/ tea and snacks when they visited. So, in a nut shell, this table was at the center of my world while growing up. We moved a few houses since then and at some point we had to let go of that table I guess. However, when I listened to this song “That Table” from The Lone Bellow it took me back to that 4 legged time machine.

Pause. Push Forward (slightly). Press Play.

A little into my 20s, there was this one other table. This one was our first dining table after we got married. This was one such table that lasted almost 10 years. Once again, this was an epicenter of a lot of moments that turned into memories worth cherishing. A meeting place for bottomless cups of tea in the evening and coffee, the morning after. Where we sat together and read, spoke, argued, and dined. Here, she quilled and painted, briefly. Her baking counter and studio lightbox to click pictures of what she baked. However, when our son arrived, he did sit at it for a year or two - since it was a circular table which was unstable without a wide base, so we had to let go. Refer pic below for the table and the Christmas decorations, my wife put up, and almost fell. This was our safe space, especially during the pandemic — when we three of us were mostly at home, it used to be one of the places we would commune. The light from that window was so perfect, we would spend a lot of time there. Especially, during the rainy season, gazing out and catching a glimpse of the downpour with a hot cup or corn cob. And the winter sun would pull a chair and give us company just before dusk.

The Song. Press Play (at leisure)

Thanks to Kaitlyn Pacheco for introducing me to this band. This song was definitely a find. Listen closely. But before that, here’s a note to set some context. Last weekend I was at a Storytelling workshop at a Cafe in Bangalore. Conducted by the Co-founders of .Faraway Originals - Naveed Mulki and Pankaj Singh, it was quite an insightful yet brief session that actually helped me nudge this draft into a post. So, without divulging much about the course content for obvious reasons, I’ll share that one exercise that relates well with this song. And that segment was about “The Window”.

The Window

A window through which one sees a story. In simple words, it’s the eye or the lens through which the storyteller wants you, the reader, to see the story. Or, rather experience the tale. For instance, Bram Stoker’s Dracula is narrated through journal entries, 84 Charring Cross is purely an exchange of letters between the Bookstore Staff and a Writer/Reader, then there’s The Book Thief which is a story narrated from the point of view of Death. In this case, it’s “That Table.” A constant in the song or the narrative around which life happens and moves on.

Sharing the lyrics below. Unfortunately, it’s not fully available on the web yet. Except for the CC /Lyrics on the streaming platforms. So, here you go. Perhaps, you could scroll as you listen. Singing along? Optional ;)

That Table – Lone Bellow

Verse 1 – Timeline 1

I remember that table / Where I grew up
Eating cereal in my highchair / Apple juice in a sippy-cup
Where I did my homework / And I played Monopoly
And that dog was always down at my feet / Looking for something to eat

Where I told my mom all about / How that girl broke my heart
And my mama held me close and said / She was no good from the start

Chorus

We all held hands / Bowed our heads / And talked to the people on the other side
We asked each other about our days / And we’d say it’s gonna be all right

We’d fill our cups with wine and beer / And then we’d raise them up / And all said cheers
But everything that changes / And the one thing that stays the same is / That table

Verse 2

I remember that table / Where I first got drunk
I got into my old man’s liquor / I Didn’t know when enough was enough
I remember that table / Where I hung my head in shame
And I knew I was in trouble / When he called me by my full name

Where I broke the news / I was leaving home
And my mama cried even though she knew / It was time for me to go

Chorus

We all held hands / Bowed our heads / And talked to the people on the other side
We asked each other about our days / And we’d say it’s gonna be all right

We’d fill our cups with wine and beer / And then we’d raise them up / And all said cheers
But everything that changes / And the one thing that stays the same is / That table

Yeah, dad was at the head / Mom was by his side / And there was a little ole me / Along for the ride
Now it’s me at the head / My wife right by my side / My little baby daughter / Along for the ride

Verse 3- Timeline 2

She’ll remember that table / Where she grew up
Eating cereal, dinner, hot chicken / Apple juice in a sippy cup
Where she does her homework / And she plays Monopoly
that dog is always down at her feet / Looking for something to eat

Where she told her mom all about / How that boy broke her heart
And her mama holds her close and said / He was no good from the start

Final Chorus
We all held hands / And bowed our heads / And talked to the people on the other side
We asked each other about our days / And say it’s gonna be all right
She drinks her juice / We’d drink our beer / We raised them up / And all say cheers
Everything that changes / One thing that stays the same is / That table

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Contemplative Pause

A few things that really stuck with me, without stating the obvious is how through out the song, it’s about the things that made one’s past. A life that was worth reminiscing. A life one was thankful for. And how life goes a complete circle around that table. Across two timelines. And while at it, what truly didn’t feature on or around “That Table” was a gadget/screen/mobile/smartphone/laptop. Perhaps, that was intentional? I’ll leave that to the listener or reader to decide. Well, that is the beauty of this song. A message that’s tucked carefully between the lines. Listen again, if you missed to notice.

“If the home is a body, the table is the heart, the beating center, the sustainer of life and health.”
Shauna Niequist,
Bread and Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table with Recipes

The next time you’re at the table, perhaps, give it a moment. Soak it all up while you can. Maybe, give thanks not just for what’s on the table but who is around and whatever is around. Look at the table as an anchor, while the world races past, the mind is in motion, the moment is fleeting, here’s one point you’re tethered to. To be still. To be at peace. To indulge in the calm while a storm could be raging on.

In closure, I hope you have the time and patience to read a poem. If possible, I request you to pull a chair and sit at the nearest table. And if it resonated to you, say cheers, and pass it onto someone across the table.

Perhaps the World Ends Here

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror.
A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.

- Joy Harjo
Courtesy: Poetry Foundation

#acnotes

Amit Charles

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