The Parentals, 1

My mother: Could you lend me your keys for the day? Quickly. I’m leaving right away.

Me: ‘course, ‘course. Just take them out of… [I jab my hairbrush at my ‘work’ bag]

MM: I don’t think it is in your bag. I think I saw you toss it somewhere here yesterday… [begins exacavating the layers on my sofa].

Me (with heavy patience): Mumma, my keys would not be lolling about on the sofa. I could be wrong, but I think if you just open the top zip of my bag

MM (pulling out the keys from under a Maths textbook with quiet triumph): Darling, you are always wrong. Thanks. See you in the evening. Ta! [disappears in the swish of a saree].



    • And a maths book? Have you considered the possibility that she had no pressing appointment and planned the whole thing when she noticed you tossing the key in the wrong place?

  1. Anindya, to brush off the lint from my khadi clothes.

    P-da, that would be delicious, but devious mischieviousness, sadly, is my father’s domain, not my mother’s. If she could plot this well, my father and I would be cowering under our beds. Impishness is our only defence against her.


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s