Weekends are glorious periods of inactivity for me. I don’t even exercise my vocal cords these two days. One blink of an eye means "Yes" two means “No”. When my Mom asks "so you will be spending the day in bed reading?" I blink once and when she asks "would you please clean your room?" I will blink twice to indicate a "No" and when she asks "are you going to feed the dogs or shall I send them to the SPCA?" I flutter my eyelashes several times in alarm, jump out of the bed in a trice with a "noooooooooo" and rush out to feed them. (There are some exceptions in life you see) You do not want your darling doggies to be given to the SPCA who will place them with some strange family who will love them and feed them on time do you? ( They will miss me so much *snifff*)
This Saturday, besides the usual casual threats, which I ignore if it doesn’t have anything to do with my doggies like "I will burn down your cupboard if you don’t rearrange it" etc. she said something that made me widen my eyes in alarm and gasp in horror like those heroines in Ramsey Brother movies when they see the awful make up of the ghost. Apparently my aunt was leaving her 13 year old teenager, Miss Deepa Ann Varghese (DAV) with us for the day. Now...Miss DAV and me are as fond of each other as my doggie Brandy and the neighbor’s cat. (and that is a lot of hate believe me.)
I will not get into the history behind the saga of mutual loathing and pure hatred between Miss DAV and me, but after my last encounter with her I have been praying very fervently and earnestly and sincerely to God that by the time I marry and have a daughter and she grows up to be a teenager, they would have invented a device that would enable parents to fast forward their child’s development, skipping a few years here and there. And no prizes for guessing which would be the years I would be skipping. (And thank you God that my mom didn’t have such a device, I owe you one).
Today, I also developed a newfound respect for my aunt, the mother of this abomination err…child who has remained sane all these years while I went batty in the few hours that I chaperoned her daughter. Anyways folks, the good news is that I survived the day….mainly due to some quick thinking ….several muffled expletives besides helluva lot of slow counting from 1 to 20,000. Today I also discovered that I have sadistic tendencies …more of that later... *evil mirthless grin*
In the morning, my second brother suddenly developed an acute condition called "Cricket practice" and walked out of the house rather he dived out of the window and pole vaulted across the compound wall and was gone before I could say "nandrolone" but not before throwing a triumphant grin in my direction. While I was wondering what that was all about, my mom dropped the bombshell. Apparently Miss DAV and her friends had to go the Mall urgently for some important shopping, like checking out the free make up and perfumes and giggling hysterically and shoving each other when they saw guys and since my brother had Cricket practice, I had to drop and pick them up. I shall not enunciate the epithets that flew fluently from my mouth towards my brothers retreating back (because I know only three).
By 9:30 am, Miss DAV was ready. By ready I mean, she looked like somebody had blackened her eyes (black eye shadows), bloodied her lips (blood red lipstick) and yanked her hair out (latest electro static cut). I looked at her and realized that if it hadn’t been for the big mole on her right hand there would be no way I could identify her as Miss DAV. As she waited for me to reverse the car out of the garage I could hear her talking to a similarly attired friend at the other end of the phone.
You should see her cosmetic collection, bleah!
OMG she uses a comb *snigger*”
She actually wears her pants around her waist *sneer*
Ignoring her and the strong urge to run the car over her again and again till the insolent smirk was wiped into the driveway I drove out of the house. The better part of the morning was spent trying to find "the house near the florist on Ring Road" and "the red brick house with a dent on the gate on Residency Road" and "the bakery next to Johnson Market because I am thirsty and need a Coke." In short, Miss DAV didn’t have any addresses. I clenched the steering wheel a little too tightly as I saw my precious Saturday vanish in a puff of Lakme Matt Silk Face Powder that Miss DAV was dabbing on her nose from time to time. Luckily she had the phone numbers and so I talked to the various Mrs Josephs, Mrs Gowda’s, a Mrs D’souza’s and a Miss Jenny (a Dad’s secretary) and got to the houses and picked up the little misses.
I looked at them in the rear view mirror. They all looked like battered victims of domestic violence with black and blue and red faces. They were in turn looking at me like I was a beggar with sores. Soon there was a lot of nudging and giggling and "keep quite, she will hear" and "look at her clothes" etc in the backseat and that is when the sadistic tendencies in me first raised its delightful head. I looked at them and felt a strange urge to drag them to the municipal water tap, wash their make up and then drop them off makeupless at the Mall ( do I hear gasps of pure delight from parents?…Didn’t I tell you I found the hidden sadist in me?).
The thought was so sadistically satisfying that I didn’t realize that I had an evil grin on my face. The girls were looking at me rolling their eyes and I had that good ol feeling of sadism rising within me again. This time I wanted to take a bottle of coconut oil and smear their hair with oil and then leave them in the Mall (Do I hear applause? Parents I told you stick around and you will learn more).
Then one of them spotted my ‘old fashioned’ Estelle bracelet and nudged the others and they collapsed giggling. By this time I had had enough and something snapped within me. You seen those horror movies when the gal sits in the car and suddenly the car doors get locked and then the camera moves away from the car and you hear blood curdling screams and then deathly silence? *heh heh*
I closed the SUV doors with the central locking system and searched in the glove compartment and found what I was looking for. Something that could inflict pain of the worst kind that would have the victim begging for death. Something the driver kept in the glove compartment in case of emergencies. I put the CD player on to drown out the screams of my to-be victims and then inserted the CD. Then I put the music on in full volume and watched the smug expressions turn to uneasiness, alarm and then pure horror, as Himesh Reshamiyya belted out “oooo huzoor tera tera tera suroooooor!!!!” Their screams were drowned out in the sheer nasal croon. I played Aapka Suroor Volume One through to Volume Two while the car crawled at 40 kmph. There was no escape…the car doors were locked.
45 minutes later, I dumped their lifeless bodies in front of the Mall.
In the evening when I went to pick them up, they were very very quiet and well behaved and the return journey was peaceful with a lot of respect shown towards the 'geriatric' driver. Just the way I like teenagers to be. *muahAHAHAHAHA*