Friday, June 10, 2011

After the Shopping

After I posted my last one titled ‘The Weekend Shopping’, I had promised to one of my readers, who incidentally is also someone on my BFF list, that I would pen in a befitting sequel to it. I started writing the sequel last weekend but couldn’t finish it.

I wrote few bits on it through the week and then finally finished it half an hour back. It has now become a 12,000 odd word and eight part story, which I have named ‘THE PARENTS’ with ‘The Weekend Shopping’ being the Part 1/8.

From today onwards, for the coming seven days I shall be posting a part a day, and I must  mention that I am doing so specifically heeding into the valuable comments from my best friend, who over a long distance drinking session on Skype advised me that I should break down my blogs into small parts suitable for this ‘twitter generation’

So here it is, Part 2/8. Read on. And yes do pen in your valuable comments.

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THE PARENTS - Part 2/8 - After the Shopping

It was nearing 10PM and businesses within the mall had begun to shut down for the day. The parents walked hastily towards the lift turning back occasionally to call out their lads to rush up. The boys who were dejected and also famished to the core dragged themselves lethargically.


They drove back home with Jagit Singh’s Ghazals playing on the car stereo; the younger lad dozed off sitting on his mother’s lap in the front passenger seat; the elder one sat alone in the rear seat and kept gazing out of the window. He suddenly turned, rested both his arms atop the front passenger seats and questioned his parents “Why you didn’t buy me that Colouring Puzzle?” to which there was no response from the parents.

The boy turned his head both ways checking out if one of his parents would respond and when there was none, he screamed again “I wanted that Colouring Puzzle, I want that, okay?” , to which his dad finally responded “That’s because you decided that you wanted the cookies and not that!” and the following conversation ensued.

“I want the puzzle” the boy stressed
“If you wanted the puzzle, then why did you choose the box of cookies?” his dad asked again.
“That cookies is not for me okay, it is for Vye” suggesting that the cookies were for his younger brother.
“So, you don’t want the cookies, is it?” his mom interjected
“No, I don’t want that” and he continued “But Vye is a good boy and if he likes to share with me, I can eat no? No Pappa?”
“Yes, you can” dad replied and added “But you won’t get that puzzle thing”
“But I want it Pappa?”
Dad let out a chuckle and responded “There’s no need Kay. Do you remember the puzzle that your grandma got for you last year? Where is it? You don’t really take care of your things. And as such, it is only last week that I brought you a box of colour pencils. So you don’t need colours either. I am not buying you anything. First learn to take care of your things” 
The little boy screamed out “But Pappa, I don’t have any colours with me also”

His mother interjected and clarified that they had brought him the colour pencils for his Annual Drawing Competition, which had taken place during the week and that when he returned back from school he didn’t have those colour pencils in his bag. Obviously he had either misplaced/lost it somewhere or given it away to one of his friends.

This revelation left the dad aggravated. He immediately pushed the brakes and parked the car on the parking bay adjacent to the road. He turned back, pointed a finger at the little boy and screamed “Look Kay, this is too much. I am not buying you anything. Nothing at all. You just don’t know how to take care of your things. Every time you come back from school, a pencil, a rubber or a sharpener is missing. And you… you never know where they have gone. How does it just fall off from your bag, tell me?”

The little boy Kay, didn’t react at all. He just sat there still, with his chin dropped to his chest.

The man kept staring at his son for some time, expecting an answer and then turned away, changed the gears and sped the car grumbling angrily.

As they drove on, the boy whispered in a low voice “I don’t know Pappa” to which his Dad looked back through the central rear view mirror and replied “You will never know son, and until you learn to take care of your things I will not buy you anything. This is final. And yes, you are not getting any of the cookies too.”
He then turned his face to his wife and instructed her “Elle, no cookies for him. That’s it.” 

The little boy now heartbroken and distressed leaned back and moved sideways to the left, exactly behind the driver’s seat to avoid any eye contact with his dad. He kept gazing at the brightly lit hoardings along the road. This was a bad day for the lad and he was experiencing a feeling far bigger than just sadness. As he kept looking out of the window, he bit his lips and covered his mouth with both the hands trying to control venting out his grief. His eyes were moist and tears trickled down his chubby cheeks. He didn’t wipe them. He just closed his eyes and slept.

Dad parked the car in the porch and unloaded all the wares from the trunk and loaded it onto Vye’s old pram, which now functioned as a trolley to shift all their purchases from the parking area to their third floor apartment. He then opened the rear door and shook Kay asking him to wake up. Kay woke up and got out of the car. Below his eyes were streaks of salt left by his tears. He walked slowly towards the lift taking baby steps with a slump on his back and his chin dropped. Inside the lift, his mom waited holding little Vye on her chest and simultaneously pressing the ‘open’ button. The boy walked straight to his mom and hugged her, burying his face in her breasts. Dad followed him to the lift pushing the pram. 

Once inside the apartment, mother put the little one onto his crib and starting unpacking their purchases and loading it into their respective cabinets; dad poured a large one of his favourite XXX Old Monk Rum on the rocks and slouched onto the sofa; Kay sat on his little chair in the kid’s room, with his elbows resting on his knees and palms clasped together and occasionally tapping his chin staring at his little brother sleeping peacefully.

Kay got up and walked to the kitchen, where his mother was busy unpacking. He asked his mother “Amma, I cannot have the cookies?”
His mother replied “No, Kay. Pappa said no.”
“And you will give to Vye?”
“Yes, if he asked for it”
“Not for me?”
“That is what Pappa said”
“Never at all?”
“Ask Pappa” She said and closed the discussion.

Kay slowly walked to Living Room. He stood in front of this dad, drooping and his chin dropped to his chest. He whispered softly “Sorry Pappa”

The dad, who was on the threshold of getting inebriated, pulled his lad close to the chest and hugged him and said “It’s okay. But you have to take care of your own things”. Kay was overwhelmed with the display of affection from his dad and started crying with his head buried inside his dad’s armpits.

Weeping, he asked his father “Pappa, you will never buy me that Colouring Puzzle?”
Dad thought for a while and replied “I will, if you bring back all those colour pencils that you have lost this week”
Kay said “Ok” and wiped his tears on his dad’s T-Shirt.
He then asked “You will never give me cookies also?” to which his dad replied “It is okay, you can have them. Ask Amma.”

The sudden release of the sanctions left the boy overjoyed and he ran to the kitchen jumping and laughing his way. His dad looked on smilingly as he entered the kitchen and informed his mother “Amma, Pappa said I can have cookies. I want two”

1 comment:

  1. Nice account... Moral of the story, if pappa gets old monk, son will get his cookies ;)

    ReplyDelete