The Dethronement II

 (Not read the first part?Shame shame!!)

What is it with mother’s and their obsession to pamper their sons? To portray them as poor waifs incapable of taking care of themselves? If the boy leaves his sock on the dining table he is careless, if he leaves his room looking like a war zone; he is messy and if he does not bother to put on a fresh shirt to office, he is too cool to care about his looks. Bull shit! That is what it is. My mother would’ve socked my ears for that careless sock and she would’ve given me a good dressing down for the messy room. Oh well! If I did choose to wear dirty clothes for work, all hell will break loose. Now Al’s mother has no qualms about her child like perfect son. Her concerns were pointedly at my presence in her son’s home.

She complained and complained about almost everything. She said the curtains were not of the right colour and cushions were not classy enough. She did not like the way the bed was made and the closet was kept. She even counted the wine glasses to see if I had broken any without her “poor little boy’s” knowledge. I did not respond. She had the right to know. I had a good mind to show her the door but I did not. She is Al’s mother and there was nothing I could do about that fact. That fact kind of sealed my fate and my future looked very bleak in lieu with Al.

I was able to survive the torture of being commanded every single moment waking moment of those days only because of Al. Nothing had changed with Al even though I overheard his mother advising him to get rid of me. The discussion was loud enough for me to hear too, as though I was an intended audience too. At least I did not feel like I were eaves dropping.

“Al, you have given her a free reign in this house. What is wrong with you? What is that she cooks everyday? It is not healthy and it does not even taste good. Gosh! You are just letting that woman rule over you!”

Al had replied without taking his eyes off the TV screen, “I do not know Mother, I like the way she cooks and she uses perfectly healthy way of cooking food,” (I beamed from behind the pillars in the dining hall) .He pressed the pause button of the remote leaving Sheldon and Leonard of Bing Bang Theory frozen in mid of an argument, “Mother, she is a darling. I think you are being unnecessarily harsh on her. She is quite unlike other women you have seen in this house. She has made this a home and not just an apartment I return to after work. You should try being friends with her.”

I was speechless at Al’s reply. Not that anyone was expecting an opinion to be flung at them from the shadows of the pillar. Well Al had me speechless, what his mother said gave me asphyxiation!

“Friends with that tramp! Are you out of your mind?” She stood up and towered over Al, blocking his view of the television, her eyes blazing with fury of a thousand hot springs. I jumped at the sudden outburst and barely suppressed the squeal that came out my throat.

“Son, it is your money she is after. The moment you tighten your purse strings you’ll see her true colors. Now she lives in luxury befitting the Queen of England and all you have to do it is cut down on her luxurious life.”

Oh! The witch! That is what she thought I was all about. Few thousand dollars! Did she even know I have a heart and that actually I might have love for her son in that heart? And then it dawned on me. Probably she did. That was exactly the issue. I’m taking care of her son and his home much better than she ever did! Lady Volcano was not yet done. Mrs. Rizweigh was still fuming and spurting lava at Junior Rizweigh.

“Get rid of her Al.I’ll bring in someone better for you in a week’s time. Listen son, I understand these kinds better than you. Give it to my age or the fact that I am a woman. Let me handle this for you.”

This is the point when in a movie, the accused comes out of the shadows of the pillar , hair billowing behind, eyes turned to slits of rage and gives the accuser the “Die-Fiend-Die” stare and continues to deliver a monologue intended to relieve the emotional audience of a few paltry sniffles and a flurry of applause at the best. I did no such thing. I simply turned and walked back to the kitchen. I had vegetables to julienne for the salad.

I basked in the glory of my wisdom. I had controlled my natural tendency to snap in defense at accusations hurled at me. Pride goes before the fall. And I fell right of out Al’s heart and home in exactly one week.

(To be continued...)

The Dethronement - I

(Authors Note:There is a lot of anticipation that goes with this post.I have not written anything in the past one month.I have my reasons.I promise (No,I won't break this one) I 

will tell you what kept me off from my second favorite (first being the worn out faux leather couch on which I read) space on earth.I feel like a student who comes to his class with out a leave letter after being absent for a long long time.)

I hated her the moment I saw her at the door. She was tall, lean, and young. She was dressed in a pale pink chiffon top, white pants and matching white sandals. Her thick black hair, carefully brushed slung over her right shoulder in a low pony. I eyed her carefully in a careless manner. Ah! The cheap perfume! Nothing misses my eye or, in this case, my nose. I could smell the flashy thing a mile away. I flashed a polite smile whilst battling my urge to strangle her at the threshold itself. I smirked inwardly.” She is going to replace me. What a pity Al!” I ushered her in and quietly returned to my room to pack my trivial belongings of a few clothes and, well, a truckload of memories. The luggage charges are going to be paid by Al and for the memories, I have to pay with whatever love I have for Al and our home. That is going to be some heavy baggage charges!

It was not my idea to move in here. It was Al’s idea. I was happy coming in on week day evenings and keeping the weekends for myself. Al suggested I move in to this house so that I can be around always. George Albert Rizweigh is a spoilt young man. He cannot find his socks in the mornings and cannot make himself a toast without burning it. Therefore, he needed me for everything, all the time and I have no qualms in being his right hand man err woman.

Everything about the arrangement was perfect. Al leaves at 8:30 am sharp. All I need to do in the morning is wake him up at 6:00 am for his daily workout, which lasts an hour. Then keep his clothes ready and his toast crisp by 7:30 am. Once he leaves, the house is mine to rule. Though he has never said anything, I know he silently appreciated my tastes in keeping our home. I made sure the house is neat and there are fresh flowers in every room. I cooked what he liked, making special effort in finding out what he likes. For his age, I should say, he is reticent and fails to communicate his needs. You should have seen the happiness on his face when I baked that mango-chocolate layered cake for his birthday. He squealed and hugged me like a kid. That was the first time he said it aloud in his British baritone,” Susie my sweetheart, I love you so much and I do not know what I will do without you! Promise me, Susie; promise me, that you’ll never ever leave me and our home!”

I was touched; he had said “our home” and not “my home”. I held his hands and solemnly promised. Now he is pushing me away for this minion that has come knocking on the front door of our home. Promises, I always believed were made to be kept. Now I have learnt that some promises you make get broken not because of your fault but because in the first place you had no right to make such a promise. You are an underdog, an orderly of fate! And orderlies never make promises they just suck up to the lowly life laid out to them by their master, Destiny!

My perfect world ended with the arrival of Mrs.  Rizweigh, Al’s mother. She took the house by a storm and my perfect world turned in to the movie set of a village with a wild elephant running amuck. I had one in my house too and this one had no control over what she did or what she said. At least wild elephants do not speak!

(To be continued...)