I belong to family of "FIGHTERS"

A day in my house will ideally begin in a very loving mannar. Both the parents after having a good intercourse will be getting up so contented every morning. They will be  hugging and kissing and then only will be separating from each other. In between they will realise that they have a small kid as a spectator to their love story and further will feel that its their duty to make her  happy too and so I too will be pecked for a while and givensome importance but trust me so much I hated that. This love hangover will last only for couple of mins. and in no time the love birds will turn into angry birds .The game angry birds they say is recently invented but I am aware about this since my childhood .The only difference was that I never played it as it was my parents forte. 

 

Till now I don't know if my parents loved each other or hated. They left me perplexed and zapped always. Anyways in no time the affect of love will be over and house will be converted into in a battleground .We followed a time table in our house .It wasn't designed by anybody but by default got established by change in emotions .Usually from 6 am to 8.30 am will be love time and hence forth till going it shall be the hate time .And this time table my parents followed religiously. I will be out for school by then. So ideally the last scene which I will be capturing in my mind and stepping out shall be that of a  breakfast plate lying down on the floor, the half piece of dosa/idli lying somewhere under the fridge, the yummy red mollapadi( red dip) spilled on the floor, the glass of water and tea lying near that red dip making a bful rangoli on floor( everyday the rangoli will be different depending on my dads mood and magnitude of anger).And in between  all this in one corner of the dinning room will be found my mum sitting like a drama queen. The lady who thinks of herself as the most luckiest and wannable every morning till 8.30 am..and post that  turns into a lady buried under deep sorrow and trauma and as if there is nobody as grieved as her on this palnet earth. She will be in pool of tears and selft pity and treating herself as the most tortured women .

My mum would be cleaning the mess then and getting ready for her office and my dad would have gone to office after barking like a dog .My parents had umpteen reasons to fight. My dad was crazily obsessive about my mum and couldn't even stand any other guys name also in her thoughts and talks.
But ironically he never minded her working in the male dominated govt. office as she was earning pretty well and he always needed loads of money to fulfil  his wild fantasies. Each penny which my mum earned would go into my dad's account and every second day she will be begging for lil amount in front of him .And very stingily and after making her feel like shit he will be giving her money,her own hard earend money. Moreover She had to produce all her monthly expenses and bills along with explanations in front of him. I could just pity her and always wondered what made her succumb her self respect and pride to such an extend and that too when she was so well secured and settled in life. In fact we depended on her more than she on us. Well ,it was love I guess.

I will be off to school with a heavy heart and a even heavier mind.

 



My Black and white parents --an overview

The word "Daddy" wets everyone's eyes but in my case it wets my panties. For me he was no less than a hitler. A megalomaniac, a physcotic and an abnormal creature  and  well, abnormal is too  small a word to describe this character. Thou he looked like a human being but acted worst than  a beast and  should have been categorised in the animal kingdom. Anyways this man was sent  by GOD almighty in our lives as a caretaker and I was suppose to call him FATHER for rest of my life .His name was Dr.P.N.Rajan and so my second name by default becomes Rajan, which even wantingly I could not refuse to take. Till now I hate two thing in me-one is my second name "RAJAN" and other this blood which is running in every nook and corner of my body. This blood which was given to me by him, and which never forgets to remind me that I am his creation .

 

 Anyways , for me coming together of my parents was the biggest comedy of errors. The most disastrous thing of the century. When God was writing my story he chose these two special characters  as the main leads. My father being the protagonist in the story and my mum a drama queen As usually it happens among the married couple "HE" is always perfect and "SHE" always imperfect , and this was no different in my house too. My dad thought he was the best and my mum the worst  and between this best and the worst I was growing up as a lost kid.

 

My father was as dark as charcoal and as ugly  as a PIG .( I hated my father from the bottom of my heart) .He had a small build and very good features, as people use to say ( Which I never found ) and a typical mallu hairstyle. He had extremely dark and dense hair and he use to do back brushing. Everything about him was dark, except his wife and daughter, his looks, his character, his life and his nature .But ironically ,he was blessed with few good things which was the saving grace for him. He was a very well read person and that was his biggest strength and his biggest charisma. If intelligence had definition ,It would be him and  If  talent had a face, it would be his . A man with command over so many languages. A man who was a store house of knowledge. A man who was a good oratory with  skill of writing beautifully. A man who could attract any women like a magnet .Till now I fail to understand how could a woman get attracted towards a horrible guy like him, nevertheless, they did and he satisfied all his wild fantasies as much as he could with them .Except for these few qualities, rest of him was extremely filthy. He was fond of women, dirty magazines and blue films. For him he just needed any women with a hole and who nodded her head to sleep with a ugly PIG like him. He was suffering from a deep inferiority complex and to cope up with it ,he found out a remedy .He would hunt for those  faces and target them who had some kind of void and dearth in their lives and he would come as a saviour to them, as a band aid and get stuck on them, a black, ugly band aid...phew.... ..They could belong to any class. And those poor ladies had no option but to succumb to his dirty needs because he called it love .His easy targets were the good looking domestic helpers. I always remember having fair ,hot , good looking maids who loved working in my house and who use to hardly take any leave unlike other helpers. Well well the perks and benefits which they were getting I guess none of the employers provided...lol. Moreover, he had enough money to splurge on them thereby taking him out of his innumerable gigantic complexes.

In such beautiful backdrop ,I was growing up. For me if you ask what is a definition of a MAN,I will say my FATHER. I use to think that this is how everyone's father is and this how the setup called family looks like. For me FATHER was the creature which was found in every family .He  was designed to rule the family and who was given that special position and power in the house .All the actions and emotions of rest of the family members functioned as per the whims and fancies of this specially designed character called FATHER. If he is there,family is there and if he finishes,family finishes. If  he is happy ,we are  happy. If he is sad, we are sad .If he is angry, we are scared. If he wants to have fun, we are suppose to have fun and so on. So all in all We were the machines which was operated by this character called Father.

I called this weird man father and my mum called him husband. My mum, another character worth mentioning. A lady who was extremely gorgeous and was as white as milk .Her skin was very supple,  soft and thin like a newbie. She had long,dark hair touching her buttocks and she use to always make it as a braid. She had a million dollar smile and whenever she laughed ( which was a very rare sight coz of the great cruel character,my father , in our lives) ,her cheeks will go red as if there were two red apples kept on her cheeks. Her forehead was very big and she use to put a big red bindi always .Whenever my mum comes in my mind I just remember her  in those bful six yards. The bful Bengali cottons which she use to drape with those contrasting blouses and how it use to make her look so elegant. She was the biggest jackpot which my dad had won in his life. Whenever he use to walk with her ,his chest will puff up double his size .He always will flaunt her in public and kept bragging that how she  fell in love with him.(A Ugly Pig like him)

 

My mum was a very well read lady and served at a very senior position in electricity board. If you ask me she was more successful than him in all the aspects and that was another reason which was putting in lots of inferiority complex in my dad. My mum s name was mangala but she was renamed  ASHA by my dad. They use to call each other dear which I found it so strange. We use to stay in quarters( houses allotted by govt. to their employees) which was allotted to her from M.P.E.B. It was a huge independent bunglow surrounded by huge guava and gooseberry trees. We had a bful small garden adjacent to our drawing room where usually we use to begin our day. My mum sipping tea and my dad hunting for his next prey to satisfy his carnal desires.?Next to kitchen there was a big courtyard and that courtyard had a door too from which you can exit out of the house. All maids  and drivers were suppose to enter and exit using this door as they were not allowed inside the house by my mum. Ironically lil did she know that these maids were not only entering the house but were taking her privileged place on her betterhalfs bed too.

 

We had a jeep which was given to my mum by her office and had a 24/7 driver. I never remember ever talking a cab or a public transport as it was against our prestige. As mentioned ,thou we belonged to middle class we never forget to act like an ostentatious upper class.