Categories
55-er Short story Thought and Reason

A cup of tea – a set of 55-ers – fiction

KING This post is published as an entry for the KING AND QUEEN OF 55F CONTEST – The first ever unique, challenge for the coveted title in micro fiction category. To catch the crowning moments and also be part of future editions and other contests, visit and register at Cafe GingerChai

Rules of the contest:

  • You have to write a set of three 55F.
  • The first two sets should be a story on its own.
  • The  two stories should  climax / conclude / inter-twine in the third set of 55F.
  • The story could be of any genre i.e, love, crime, mystery or thriller etc.

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He lay sprawled in usual drunken stupor. She stared unseeingly at the tea boiling in the pan. Fifteen years of abuse flashed before her. Last night however, he had stooped too low.

‘Bloody pimp’, she swore, but smiled harshly.

She did not need him anymore! A cup of tea (and some poison, perhaps) would suffice.

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pic courtesy: evanatasha00 dot blogspot dot com

Sunlight momentarily blinded her. She picked up her torn dupatta, wound it tightly around her bruised shoulders, and entered Amma’s kitchen.

Their eyes met. Cold, vacant, almost chilling.

The young girl lowered her gaze. Ashamed.

‘Go now. Wash yourself. Come fresh and clean, for tea’

‘Clean? I’ll never be clean again…’ hot tears rolled, unrestrained.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..


Laila scrubbed herself until her skin burned.

Beauty!’, father’s ‘friend’ had grunted as he ravaged her last night.

Amma had been livid. Until, she had seen the money.

Drink!!!

Trembling, Laila brought the scalding tea to her lips.

A bitter smile. A quick flick of the wrist.

Splash!’

The cup of tea had indeed sufficed!

Pic courtesy: Dailymail dot co dot uk

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Categories
Short story

Chasing Rainbows – fiction

‘Chasing Rainbows’

Fiction on the topic ‘When an NRI Returns… Observations and Experiences’

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‘You must be out of your mind!’ Neetu bangs the bowl so hard the shiny black table, that it cracks. The bowl, ofcourse, not the table!

From where I can see, they are having one of their routine weekend arguments. Come Friday night, and these two start off their incessant bickering.

‘Ravi! Did you meddle with my iPhone again? Something’s not quite right!’

‘Not pizza again, Neetu! Let’s have some ‘proper’ Indian food. Why don’t we just hire a cook?’

‘Ravi, your dirty clothes are supposed to go inside the laundry bag, not outside!’

My ears ache. I am often tempted to use those white sponges – er, what Neetu calls ‘ear-plugs’ – you know, the thing she always steals from hotels!

Some weekends however, are different. The house is filled with silence. Eerie silence. Those are the days when these two go absolutely mad, and cannot stand the sight (or sound) of each other! Comparatively pleasant, I have to confess.

Three months. Exactly three months since my children returned ‘home’. When Ravi left Chennai nine years ago, to work in London, he said he would return in just two years. Two rolled into three, four, five, and slowly nine. Finally, it was my illness that called him back. I know Neetu did not want to come back. After all, she is an educated modern girl. What is that thing she says all the time? ‘Spaaace’. Yes. She screams ‘I neeeeeed my space, Ravi!’.

Really, what is this space??! We have a beautiful 1500 sqft apartment! On the main road. In the heart of the city. That too, just next to the bus terminus! If I was young again, I would just get into my favourite Bus 12B and travel all the way to Marina beach and spend the day there, for just Rs.5!! Did you know, they have introduced Air-conditioned buses too now. That ticket costs Rs.10, and personally, I do not mind paying that much. But you know, my milkmaid – Bala, she says it is exorbitant. Poor woman. Carrys her aluminium tin full of milk packets in the bus and even on her head.

Anyway, Neetu is always asking for ‘space’. I think she has forgotten,  that her apartment in London was only 700 sqft. I went there once, you see, when Ravi’s Appa was alive. Nice city, actually. Though, I do not understand why those people always say ‘How lovely to meet you!’ What is so lovely about meeting a stranger?! But they are polite, those English people. We can actually learn some manners from them. Here, even walking has become a nightmare. Never know who will bump into you, or land his motorbike right on your feet, and not even bother to say ‘Saari’.

But nothing like ‘Home’. London was very peaceful. But it was dead. Perhaps any city would be ‘dead’ for an old woman like me. But here in Chennai, I am alive. Every moment. I wish Neetu would also realise this.

‘Crash! Bang!’ – more plastic cups flying across the dining table now. Ouch! This must be a really big fight. Talking to you, I seem to have missed what this was all about! Let me listen carefully.

There is a slight drizzle, and altogether, it makes a very pretty picture. The setting sun, the pitter-patter of raindrops, the aroma of hot samosas…

‘I hate this place, Ravi. I H-A-T-E Chennai. I am going back to where I belong!’ she cries.

‘What do you mean ‘where I belong’?? You lived all your life here, my dear. Have you forgotten your childhood days in Mandaveli area?’ he yells.

‘I have not forgotten. And that is EXACTLY the reason I cannot stand living here!’ she gets hysterical.

If you ask me, Chennai has changed so much in the last decade. When these children left for London, what we had was a quiet, old-fashioned city. Today, it is a modern metro. Complete with metro, shopping malls and the works! In those days, there were a few excellent schools and colleges for the youngsters.  Some new foreign banks had opened. That is where Ravi himself joined. Rukku Mami was so jealous about Ravi’s good fortune. To counter it, she used to brag about her daughter, Paddu, who had joined some ‘software company’. Shameless!

‘What’s your problem, Neetu? We have great jobs. You yourself earn a lakh of rupees a month!!’, Ravi continues to argue with Neetu.

‘You don’t get it, do you, Ravi?’ Neetu is on the verge of throwing a glass vase.

Please, not that vase, child!! I want to scream! I bought it about twenty years ago from Poppat Jamaal – what was then, one of the biggest shops in Chennai. Please choose another vase. Like that cheap imitiation you brought from London. Do you remember, how we laughed, when we turned the vase over and it read ‘Made in China’? Throw that one, please. Of course, she does not heed me. She never does.

‘We are both happy here! We have everything we can dream of!’, Ravi pleads.

Well said, Ravi. You both do have everything. Neetu also is doing well, I suppose. She has made so many new friends in the last two months.

She is very fond of driving, and in London, she never managed to get a license. Can you believe it? She tried four times, each time, she failed. As soon as she came to Chennai, she called ‘Metro Driving School’. They got her a driving license without her even going for the test! Five thousand rupees and two photographs – job done!

‘Ravi, can’t you see how congested this place is? India is just so polluted. Every time I step out, I end up coughing like an old woman!’ Neetu continues to whine.

Now, this is really getting annoying now. What is so dirty about India? Agreed, the roads are very congested. But the government has built so many flyovers. Many roads are one-way, and traffic is quite smooth, if you ask me. Ofcourse, you won’t! It is not fair, I think, that people obey rules and follow one-way signs when they are abroad, and when they are here in India, they crib that it is causing delays!

But look at it this way, our immune system is so much better than those who are living abroad. Our children roam around in the hot sun, but do not fall ill. I remember Neetu used to apply some expensive sun-screen lotion during the few summer months in London. We never do this drama! We are naturally robust.

Talking about being robust – look at our mental strength! Our country has been attacked so many times, in the past, and even now. The Mumbai blasts, terrorist attacks… every day, some part of our country is destroyed, damaged. But we Indians bounce back to Life. That is our biggest strength. I wish this girl could see these finer points of life.

‘We have to start a family, Ravi. Look at the free health system in London. Excellent education too, and all free!’ Neetu is pleading her case very hard today. I do not know how Ravi will reply to this.

You see, in India, education is not ‘equally’ available to everyone. There is a huge difference in government schools, and private funded schools. The former are usually very mediocre. There are some bright students, ofcourse, but they do not always get a fair chance. The poor people cannot afford a decent education for their children.

‘You’re right, Neetu. State schools in London are world-class. And free. But we can afford to give high quality education to our children. And we have the best possible schools here. Look at your own nieces and nephews. They go to the best school in Chennai. Haven’t they turned out brilliantly?’

But Ravi, what about our daily commute to work? I spend two hours on the road every day, in the dust and heat, travelling to the outskirts of the city on work. This will take a toll on my health, don’t you think?’ Neetu seems to have softened her tone a little now.

‘Darling, you used to travel an hour a day even in London. Remember those horribly crowded underground trains, in peak-hour. And every other day, there would be a delay because of some signal failure! Atleast, you get to car-pool here. Or travel independently, if you like’ Ravi gently kisses her on the forehead. I have to turn away now. I know where this is leading!!

‘But the corruption, Ravi? Everywhere we go, we have to bribe something to someone. Otherwise things just do not get done. This country runs on money. Only money’

‘Now, Neetu, don’t be unreasonable. Every country has its faults. I know we have not seen much corruption in London. The machinery moves even without the ‘extra’ oiling. But do you see, how slow things are there? It took us three weeks to get a broadband connection. When Appa fell ill, we had to wait two whole days, to get an appointment with the government doctors. See how accessible things are here in India…’

‘Hmmm’ I hear Neetu’s unspoken words. She cannot refute the points my darling son is making.

 ‘Remember the day we landed? You and I did not have to do a thing!! Helpers did everything for us. And what did you do? You yelled at poor Lakshmi-amma, for not wiping the mirrors well enough’.

I see Neetu squirming. Now her cheeks are turning red. Oh no, Ravi! You have treaded dangerous territory now! Seems like Ravi has heard my alarm too.

Sorry, darling. I did not mean it that way. I was just trying to make you see how convenient it is to live in India. We have so much help. You do not have to lift a finger! In London, we did everything, from cleaning bathrooms, to painting the house. We have people to do every little piece of work here. All you have to do manage them!’

At this moment, the lights go out. Before I assume these children are upto some hanky-panky, I hear a loud knock on the door. ‘Nityasireeee, Current illaya?’ (meaning, no current?) comes the booming voice of our neighbour, Chandra Maami. How much I miss her. We used to leave our front-doors open, and sit in our respective hallways, and chat with each other, during quiet evenings. Her children live in Seattle. Naturally! She educated them so well. IIT, IIM. And what did they do? Flew away to the USA, and settled there. I know exactly how she feels. I used to feel the same way. Until Ravi and Nityashree returned. Such a beautiful name – ‘Nityashree’. She gets angry when anybody refers to her by this name. She said her friends found ‘Neetu’ easier to pronounce. Sigh!

Sometimes, I think the best way of putting some sense into her head, is to show her the restaurant bills they have both run up in the last two months. One would think they returned to India for me. From the way they have been ravaging the Chaat shops and Dosa-outlets, it looks like they have been starving for the last nine years. ‘Mmmm… mmmmm…’ is all I hear when they bring home a take-away. Slurp. Of all the food they have gobbled, I loved the aroma of pav-bhaji most! I know – Ravi knows it is my favourite dish. He is a loving boy, my Ravi.

He remembers Chennai, the way it was. Madras.

The quaint old-fashioned city with its quiet, cultured inhabitants.

The streets where one would find a beautiful old temple, a relatively new Mosque and a historically important Chuch, all within five minutes walk of each other.

The beautiful Marina beach. If one could just ignore the number of slum-dwellers who performed their morning ablutions in front of our eyes! Still, it is a beautiful beach. Countless families who relish their Saturday evenings. Lakhs of ‘lovers’ walking hand-in-hand, dreaming of a future so bright, and in a world miles away from here. Little realising, that this place – right here, and right now – is a heaven on earth itself.

Call me a frog-in-the-well, if you like. I have breathed my entire life in this beautiful city. In this magnificent country, India. By far, I believe this is the most wonderful place ever.

‘This is the most wonderful place, ever, Neetu’ says Ravi, almost echoing my thoughts.

They have lit a candle. In the darkness, all I can see is Neetu’s eyes, glistening with tears. And Ravi caressing her gently.

‘I miss my life in London, Ravi! I miss those beautiful rainbows on a quiet summer evening’ Neetu whispers.

‘Oh, I miss my Tropicana orange and Cider too, Neetu’, Ravi says teasingly. And Neetu bursts out laughing. She actually looks quite pretty when she is happy.

‘I know you miss London. I do, too. But we cannot deny the fact that whatever be the case, we led a monotonous life’, Ravi looks quite serious now.

‘We spent our days shopping, travelling, eating, drinking…’ he continues. ‘Which is not bad at all. That is exactly what everybody wants to do. But you will realise, some day, what I mean when I say Life must be more Fulfilling’.

Neetu starts to get up. Ravi holds her hand and pulls her back.

Really, these children have no shame. Holding hands freely, in front of elders. Er, is this what Neetu means when she says she wants her ‘space’? Anyway, I have to perk up now, if I want to catch any more of their argument. Which I know, Ravi is going to win!

‘We want to start our family, Neetu. How do you want our children to grow up? In play-groups or nurseries with strangers? Or with your own family here – with your parents! Do you want your child to be lonely and bored despite having expensive toys? Or do you want her to simply walk down our apartment complex, and just join a bunch of energetic children playing excitedly?’

Neetu nods slowly.

‘Neetu, you do not have to turn into another Shahrukh Khan from Swades!

You do not need a dramatic tryst with poverty and misery – for you to have a change of heart.

You do not have to stumble upon an orphanage, to realise how much there is to be done here in India.

You just have to open your heart and mind, and realise that there is so much more to share here. With so many more people. You can share your sorrows. Your joys, even. There is just so much to give, and to receive too!’

I feel a lump forming in my throat. This boy is wise beyond his years.

‘We cannot change this country, Ravi. You’re being dramatic!’ Neetu argues.

‘Nityashree!’ (Ravi only uses this name when he is very serious). ‘I am not trying to change this country. All I am saying is, give us a chance, to return home!’

Well said, my boy! I almost whoop in delight!

Look around you! Your life is brimming now. With people, activity, laughter, sorrow, noise, light… you and I, are fully alive! Unlike our depressing winters abroad. There is something about the air in our country, that makes me feel alive. I hope you will realise it someday, too’.

I feel a tear roll down one cheek. I feel alive here too, Ravi. I want to walk right up and embrace him.

‘When I came back to Chennai last year…’ Ravi continues. I suspect a tremor in his voice.

‘When I came last summer, Appa was already gone. But Amma – the sight of her shook me. She was alone, naturally. But she was so content. Simple, yet, so peaceful and calm. That is when I realised, that we, despite all our material comforts, were sorely missing something by being away from our homeland’

When Amma also died last year, I realised that the most important pieces of my life were gone.

First my father, and then my mother. The only thing I had left now, was my hometown – my country, my home. My roots. I could not reverse Time. But I could gather the remnants of my life…’

Neetu nods slowly. She looks up and stares at me. Rather, at my photograph that hangs on the mango-yellow wall.

Her gaze meets mine. Hers, undecided. Mine, pleading.

‘He is right, child!’ I want to cry, ‘I hope you too, realise that a large chunk of you belongs in your roots. No country, no home is perfect. But if you give it a chance, you could actually stop chasing rainbows, because they are right here – even in a drop of adulterated water, even in a ray of light. Happiness in every breath! Well, almost’, I plead silently.

‘Ok, Ravi’ she finally whispers. ‘Let’s do this!’ she says more affirmatively.

In a rather filmy way, the power suddenly comes back on. In the distance, I notice, what most certainly looks like a rainbow! I know that my children will notice it too. Soon!

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Categories
Short story

Princess of the Dark

Team This post has been published by me as a team member of Tiger Trails Team for the SUPER 5 round of Bloggers Premier League (BPL) – The first ever unique, elite team blogging event in the history of blogging world. To catch the BPL action and also be part of future editions and other contests, visit and register at Cafe GingerChai

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The secret diary of a little girl who sometimes believed she could be a Princess too..

01-Jun-10

I watched through the corner of my eye, as the ‘Princess’ distributed her birthday invites in the class. I had heard how the last year’s party was themed on ‘Treasure Island’. I wondered what it would be this year. Hmmm.. And yes, all the girls received their invites and were giggling excitedly all day long. Only three boys were invited, and even they were whispering about the party during classes. Phsaw! As if a birthday party was such a big event after all. It is silly!

02-Jun-10

Math class. I muddled with my numbers as usual. I honestly do not understand why we need to learn Trigonometry?! I mean, does anybody even use it? What a waste of time. Everybody laughed when I couldn’t answer the question. But then! Who cares? This isn’t what I want to pursue in Life! I want to be a dancer. A ‘famous’ one. Mummy says I will be ‘popular with clients’.

I think what she means is ‘Famous with a lot of fans’. She isn’t very educated, you see. She has not studied much, so she says she cannot even find a regular day-job like the Mummies of my classmates. So she works from home.

03-Jun-10

Gosh! Anu has been struck with chicken pox. The entire class is afraid now. Mummy says I had not been vaccinated against it when I was a baby. I asked her ‘Why?’. ‘None of your business!’ she retorted sharply.

The girls in my class say they have had the vaccination, but it could still strike them. And then, their face would be covered with dark spots and it would look awful at Rhea’s birthday party. Personally, I couldn’t have asked for more 😉 They deserve this, all of them. And guess what? The theme is ‘Disney Princesses’. Isn’t that silly? I think they are way too old to be ‘Princesses’. Nevertheless, I guess it is quite interesting.

04-Jun-10

It is official. Five girls are down with the pox now. Today is Friday, and the hot topic was ‘will the birthday party be called off?’ Not that it matters much to me, but I wouldn’t be too sad if it is 😉 After all, I wasn’t invited.

Mummy says I need to learn dancing. I am excited, of course. I really want to learn ballet. But she wants to teach me Salsa, as it is a very ‘in thing’. I wonder why! She said in her days, she used to do some other weird-sounding stuff called ‘mujra’. I don’t think I have a choice, anyway, but yes, I would be very happy to dance 🙂

05-Jun-10

My first dance class lasted about an hour. And boy! My body aches a little. I did not like the way my teacher kept sliding his hands down my back and breathing into my face! He needs a mouthwash! *Giggles* But Mummy says I need to master salsa, as it is very popular. Well then, I will do it!

I’m a big girl now, I turn 12 this month end, you know? The strange thing is, I share my birthday with ‘Princess Rhea’.

My classmates do not know this, but I am going to have a ‘private’ party too!

I cannot invite them, though. Mummy says they won’t come. When I asked ‘Why ever not?’ she laughed and said ‘Because they think I’m ‘dangerous’’. I have never heard anyone say so, in the last four schools that I have been to! Mummy is just beautiful, not ‘dangerous’!

It is a pity though, that she does not allow me to invite my friends home. They do not invite me either. The only people who come to my home are the other pretty Aunties and fat Uncles who smile inanely at me before Mummy shoos me off to my little room in the attic.

 

06-Jun-10

My body aches very slightly, from the dance. But my teacher says I’m a natural!! I don’t like the look of him, though.

Nevertheless, Mummy is so happy she has bought me a new salwar kameez for my birthday next week. It is a peacock blue, with red chiffon dupatta – and it is studded with little diamonds. She says it is befitting of a ‘Princess’ like me. She says I can wear this on Friday night, for the movie.

Didn’t I tell you about the movie thing? Mummy has booked a ‘private box’ for us, to celebrate my birthday! She, me and the new Uncle. Just the three of us. There’s going to be a huge pack of butter popcorn, chocolate cake slices, buttery sweet corn, and Pepsi 🙂

I love Mummy. And do you know a secret? ‘Mummy’ is actually my mum’s sister. I never knew my mum. My real one, I mean. She died when I was really young. But this Mummy looks after me like a Princess 🙂 You know, I go to one of the best schools here. Mummy works so hard for me.

But she says ‘Darling, you are a worth-while investment’. I love it when she calls me ‘Darling’.

I do not like the dark streets where we live. I feel a little scared sometimes. Especially when the men try to grab my hand as I rush past them, on my way to the bus-stop.

Mummy is so beautiful. But most of the men on the street call ‘me’ princess instead. They need to check their spectacles properly!!

I think I am just an ‘Ugly Duckling’ 😦 But then, Mummy says I am becoming very beautiful these days. And that everything is going to change soon 🙂

I am so lucky to have her!

07-Jun-10

Boy oh boy! I hate Mondays!! Math, History, Science… gets me, really! The only subject I like is English. I think I will be a famous writer when I grow up. I might just write about Princesses 🙂

Mummy says if I am a ‘good girl’ on Friday, the new Uncle has promised to buy me a new pink laptop. Woo hoo!

Oh, and there’s some spicy news. Something I have been secretly pleased about all day. ‘Princess’ Rhea’s birthday party may not take place after all!! Nine of the girls are now down with the Pox, and everyone else is worried they will ‘catch it’ too. Well, I, for one, am not affected, as I will have my private party anyway 🙂

08-Jun-10

Guess what? Guess, guess, guess!!!!

I got invited to Princess Rhea’s birthday party!!! ‘Come if you like’, she shrugged as she said it. But she really wants me to come, I know. Even though she ignores me during classes and even in the canteen, she still wants to be my friend 🙂 I am so excited. I need to buy a nice BIG gift for her.

I know, once she gets to know the real me, we will become best friends, after all.

Mummy has so many friends! The women are in awe of her, and the men really admire her. I want to be just like her!

09-Jun-10

Dance practice has started during the week days too! It is tough. And it leaves me no time for my home-work. But it makes Mummy happy. Mummy says, if I am a ‘good girl’ on Friday, she will give me LOTS of money to buy a huge gift for Rhea. Mummy will buy us both a big box of ‘foreign’ cosmetics. The new Uncle is returning from Singapore tomorrow night, and she will ask him to bring it from there.

Gosh! Whoever thought all this would happen!! Usually, nobody talks to me at school. Except Ramu anna, of course. But then, he is the canteen boy, so when I ask him for something that isn’t on the menu, he has to reply 😉

Anyway, now, here I am – a proud ‘invitee’ to the Princess’s party…. excited owner of a bejewelled chiffon dress. And the happy would-be owner of a big foreign cosmetics case 🙂

I feel like a Princess myself 😉

10-Jun-10

School was so much fun today. I was allowed to have lunch at the same table with the Princess and her friends. They didn’t talk much to me, but all the same, they didn’t ignore me either. So that’s a really good sign. They have all bought gifts for Rhea.

I have decided to keep mine a secret. I will stun them on the day 🙂 Mummy says she will find out if Uncle can drop me at Rhea’s party on Sunday and even bring me back in his luxury car!

By the way, something interesting happened at school today. There is a new subject called ‘Sex education’. It was so yuck! I can’t believe men and women do ‘that’! The boys were smirking right through the class. Many of the girls covered their mouth and giggled. I copied them. But I thought it was all really gross.

When I told Mummy, she just laughed and said ‘You’re a big girl now. It’s time for you to know, anyway!’

11-Jun-10 – am

EXCITED! Today’s my big day. I’m off to school now, but Mummy says she will send the car to fetch me at noon itself. She has planned to take me to the ‘Spa’ 🙂 I am so lucky, aren’t I? I bet even Princess Rhea doesn’t get pampered so by her handsome Dad! He’s a film star, by the way. Did I mention that before? And he has some really cool friends, and they have really cool cars and all that. They are all supposed to be ‘shooting’ for a film in Singapore this week. It seems he has actually flown back in his private luxury jet last night, just in time for her birthday party! How awesome is that!!

 11-Jun-10 – noon

No time!! Got to rush!! Off to the Spa now. Then I have to deck up in my gorgeous new outfit. And head to the cinema from there. Mummy did not mention which movie it is. I bet it is the new Hritik Roshan one. She knows how much I adore him!! Oooh, I am so excited!! Mummy reminded me twice that I must impress Uncle today! ‘Make him happy, and our life will change forever’! Ofcourse I will. My poor Mummy. She is so stressed with taking care of all of us. I will be ‘a good girl’ tonight. I promise!!

11-Jun-10 – pm

No entry.

12-Jun-10

No entry.

13-Jun-10

‘Happy Birthday to me’. I did not go to Princess Rhea’s birthday party. I feel sore. Every time I try to get out of bed, I feel like throwing up.

 14-Jun-10

No entry.

15-Jun-10

I am still bleeding.

Mummy says there is nothing to worry about. She wants me to get back to school and resume dance practice soon.

But it still hurts all over.. thighs.. lips…everything.

16-Jun-10

I did not go to school today either. I feel so Dirty!

Mummy is furious. She says I must have more respect for ‘our’ profession.

But I haven’t actually chosen my profession yet. Or have I?!!!

P.S: I do not feel like calling her ‘Mummy’ any more. Am I being ungrateful?

17-Jun-10

Mummy dragged me out of my bed today, and said I must ‘look after myself’. She says she cannot feed me for the rest of my Life. She says Uncle is going to visit this Friday too.

She says he is ‘our most desirable client’ and that I should be grateful that he flew back in his private jet to meet me last week.

I hate him. And his friends. And her.

I told her that. She just laughed. ‘Your mother said the same thing! Avoided my high-profile clients. And look where she landed. Contracted the disease and went to her grave. Atleast you have some sense. This is far more than you can ever dream of’.

For the first time in my life, I miss my real Mummy. If she were alive, she would have taken me far away from this hell.

Or….would she?!

Actually, I do not know any more.

18-Jun-10

Friday mid-night again. Did I tell you? ‘Uncle’ does look so much like Princess Rhea’s daddy. He looks old, from up close. He is bad at doing the Salsa. And he’s not so handsome, after all.

But he’s really very heavy. And rough. He hurts me so much. Even when I cry, he does not stop. It is very strange. The more I cry, the louder he seems to laugh.

He says I am delicious. That’s stupid, for a man his age. Only cakes or pastries can be called ‘delicious’. I cannot stop wondering how Princess Rhea’s birthday cake had tasted. Delicious???!!

I hear him promising his friends, that it will be their turn soon. They guffaw aloud. Mummy joins them. I want to die.

I have to go. He is calling for me again. ‘Stop hiding, my Princess of the Dark’.

 

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Do read posts of my fellow TIGERS, aka Team-mates, here:

Neha: http://www.nehasilam.com/2010/06/adult-education-english-lessons.html
Saurabh: http://stuffilearnttoday.blogspot.com/2010/06/12-commandments.html
Debs: http://debosmita.wordpress.com/2010/06/14/graduation-ceremony-fiction-55/
Debs again: http://debosmita.wordpress.com/2010/06/14/destinys-child/
Sudhakar: http://idlivadasambar.wordpress.com/2010/06/14/hey-there-you-idiot/
Arpita: http://soulrenaissance.blogspot.com/2010/06/with-love-to-mankind.html
Kanagu: http://kanaguonline.wordpress.com/2010/06/14/education-equality-and-excellence/

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