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.

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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
Humour Incidents

The ‘cleaning lady’

Friends have long been advising me to get someone to clean the house. Now I am not quite sure if they felt sorry for me, or if they were simply hinting that the house looked worse than a ‘badly maintained’ pig-sty!

Btw, the only other time I had tried having someone to clean, was when this Iranian woman (I think) was recommended by the building porter! Well, one look at her, and you would think she owned this entire apartment complex. Great clothes, nice handbag, stunning glasses.. she looked picture perfect.. sigh!!!! (Guys, don’t even think of it, she is married, and has 4 kids)

After that encounter, I resolved two things
(1) To get myself some smart clothes (which by the way, I have still not managed to do!)
and
(2) To never call her again, for fear of an increasing inferiority complex 😉 😉 (which I HAVE managed to do 🙂 )

So, now you see why I am so nervous about meeting ‘cleaning ladies’ (as they are called by my friends!).

Recently, when a friend ‘firmly insisted’ that I try outsourcing the cleaning, I chose to ignore the growing anxiety pangs and increased heart rate, and give this one a chance.

First, this girl sent me ‘missed calls’. A typical Indian trait :-)) When I returned her call, she very briefly asked me to ‘text my post code!’ Wooa! This one seemed uber-cool.

At the appointed time, the door bell rang. It was not her, naturally. With all due respect to ‘Indian standard time’, she was here half hour late. No apology, ofcourse. We don’t believe in such formalities, do we?

I heard her voice through the intercom. She simply announced her name. Sounded extremely young. The sound of her heels doing a confident clickety-clack on the floor impressed me immensely. (Psst… this is something I’ve dreamed of doing for a long time now. Brr.. not cleaning, but wearing high-heels that go ‘tap tap tap’ on a shiny floor! Sigh! Some day… ) But I digress…

Finally, a confident knock on my front door. As I opened it, I saw this rather haep young 20-something standing in front of me. Dressed in black. Smart summer jacket. Impressive calf-length leather boots. Stylish over-sized cooling glasses. Huge shiny handbag! Very much the accessories I had described here in this old post. (Guys, jaws closed, please!)

And then came the BIIIIIIIGGGGG surprise.

‘Heyyllow P baeeeen! Kyaa mein aundar aaaoounnn?’

??!!!!

Oh yes, my friend did mention she was from Gujarat!

Two hours of work later, the apartment was spic and span, my Hindi a wee bit improved, and her Inglis pretty much like my Hindi!

But I was happy!

So, after nearly six long years, I have finally decided to hire a maid (psst.. one hour every two weeks) !! Yippee!