Dad: My dad
Mom: My mom
Mr R: A blood sucking monster of a man. Dad’s colleague at office.
K: My cousin: a successful, globetrotting techie. Also one of my best friends in the family.
Yours Truly: Duh!
Scene I – SP Fort Hospital: Room 305
Enter Mr R. Mr. R is dad’s colleague at work, whose rock-scratching voice, coupled with the ‘thud’ of the door disrupts the ‘silence’.
Mr. R: “Good evening!”
Dad: (suitably donning a ‘welcome’ expression) “Good evening, R! We didn’t expect you to turn up so fast when you called up half an hour ago!”
Mr. R: “Ah, I intended to start from home sometime back, but my daughter insisted on dropping her to tuition; which actually made me late.” (The eagerness in his voice did nothing to hide the blatant lie.)
Dad: “Oh, I see… Which subject? Your daughter’s trade is Electronics & Communication, if I’m not wrong…”
Mr. R: “Exactly. It’s this paper called ‘Solid State Devices’. She finds it pretty tough.” (Turning his face at me) “So, how’s the champ doing? Badly fractured, eh? How much did you score for your exams?”
Me: (getting up from bed feigning ‘respect’) “Em… Uncle, I don’t know my scores, for, they won’t publish your scores if you fail for your exams… I have three back papers.”
(R now assumes a condescending, triumphant expression in his face, badly disfigured by Mother Nature. His moment of redemption has apparently arrived earlier than he had expected.)
Mr. R: “Omigod! That’s pathetic! Obnoxious!! Three back papers and that too for the first year? This is totally unacceptable! Evidently, you’ve been wasting your time all through. If you’d focussed your energies on your studies, you’d surely have done well!”
(R’s face progressively contorts as he speaks, revealing the vaguest grin between his intensely parched lips.)
Mom: “You’re right, Mr. R. My son wouldn’t study a word, neither at college, or at home. You should see his attitude. He’d do anything, but study. And he’s madly addicted to the computer, television and novels.” (Mom’s voice quivers as she speaks)
(Yours’ truly hangs his head in embarrassment. His feeble ego has been terribly wounded. His dad nods his head in accord.)
Mr. R: “Hmm… he could very well learn from my daughter. You see, she had the seventh rank in the higher secondary examinations and scored a neat 1500 rank for the entrance. And she did this all through sheer hard work. She’s really intelligent too… Not many of her classmates at SCT College of Engineering have marks close to her whopping 84%!”
Me: “Did you say Eighty Four? That’s a very good percentage! Wow!”
Mr. R: “Hmm… you know what your problem is, son? You simply were whiling your time away… See, your college is a government college and you simply had all opportunities to go wayward. And I guess you were utilizing it to the fullest extent. Just check out his sessionals, Ramesh (my dad). Also, go meet his teachers too… I seriously doubt he’s into bad company. Who knows, this accident could be result of a drunken brawl or something! You can’t trust kids. Why don’t you confiscate his bike? Or rather, why did you buy him a bike, first of all…?”
(The expression on R’s face brightens as his face contorts further. Meanwhile the ‘accused’ turns beetroot red. Mr Accused has to but listen to R unquestioningly and silently, thanks to his fait accompli)
Dad: (without a tinge of embarrassment in his face, but scowling at his son): “I too have my doubts, R. But the accident wasn’t a result of a brawl or something, for sure.” *laughs* “The bike’s my wife’s brother’s. He took it to college that day citing some lab exam or something. I still don’t take that alibi and my illustrious son still sticks to it. God alone knows why. The accident happened in front of my office. And the eye witnesses’ version matches his. So, I don’t think it’s a lie. Still it’s goanna burn a lot of dough, I’m sure!”(and it did. Fifty thousand bucks vanished into thin air!)
Mr. R: “Good… anyway, you should see boys these days. They’re so indolent! My daughter speaks of all the strikes even conducted by first years in the college. When I was a first year at CET, I was totally immersed into studies. We wouldn’t even walk about the corridors for fear of getting ragged. But I guess your son hasn’t suffered much ragging. Perhaps, that’s a reason why he flunked SO miserably. My daughter used to study for hours everyday at home. And today, she’s reaping the benefits of her effort.”
Dad: “You’re right. I hear people say that my son has a ‘blog’ or something. I don’t know what it really is, but that’s some kind of website where people write stuff. They say he writes well and all. I think he’s wasting his time over there. I’m going to cut his internet connection as soon as we get back home.” (He’s really angry!)
Mr. R: “Oh, if your son had put his writing skills to good use, he would have done better.”
Me: (all let down, morose and depressed) “Uh, dad… I think I need to go to the toilet. Could you please help? I can’t actually lift my left hand, remember?”
Mr. R: (turning to me) “Ah, I see you’re intelligent, too… That was a quick excuse! You can’t avoid the truth by escaping from it son. You’re doomed. Your life’s done for. You can’t get into a good
company with your appalling GPA! Why are you doing this? Why are you killing your parents’ expectations? Look, my daughter…”
Me: (visibly relieved) “Hey bro…”
K: “Dude… Gawd, you’re a mess! Sorry for being late, I was totally screwed up by work. Hey, you feeling good now? You look kinda depressed.”*smiles* “Hi uncle!”
Mr. R: (visibly disturbed at having his monologue interrupted) “Uh, I have to go pick my daughter from tuitions. See you later. And son, remember my words. Bye.”
Dad: “Bye R! Thanks for turning up and enlightening our wayward son… See you too”
Then I realized, there was a way I could extract sweet revenge. I could beat her in the upcoming exams by a world of a percentage! True, I’m a slacker but I guess studying full-throttle might just need as much effort as toggling a JK flip flop! (See, I’m learning stuff!) I now have a meaning to my life; I have reason to work, a quarter-life-crisis to survive, and an IIM to join!
R and your f*#!ing daughter, beware!! I’ll make your life living hell! There will be blood, gallons of it! Period.
[Update: Dad just read this post. He apparently googled my name and landed here. I caught him laughing out loud uproariously! Had I not caught his laptop in time, he’d have dropped it! Strangely, he agrees with me now on what a big a$$hole Mr R is… . :|]