Thursday, May 10, 2012

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...)


  1. Your protagonist doesn't have a say? She lets Al decide her destiny!

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