Yesterday, 04:46 PM
The morning was calm. It was a Monday, and Di had a big exam starting today but she had had good preparation for the first paper, so she was just relaxing in the backyard, brushing her hair and talking with mummy. Jiju had finished his bath and was walking around in his vest. Papa called from inside the house for breakfast and Di went to attend to him, as mummy was having a broom in her hand.
It was only me, Jiju and mummy in the backyard. And I noticed Jiju taking sneak peeks at mummy trying to engage me in his smart talks.
Suddenly, Jiju noticed the beehive by the bedroom window. It had turned quite large now.
“Let's have honey for breakfast, champ.” He said and asked me to look for a bucket and a long rod to collect it. Mummy who was cleaning the yard nearby overheard the plan. She panicked and warned us to stay away, telling us papa would get angry if he found out what we were to do. We ignored her. We wanted the honey, so we started trying to reach it.
“Would you have breakfast now, Jitesh?” Di enquired as she stepped out of the kitchen and suddenly she yelled, “Don’t… don’t touch it. Get back.”
“What?..” Jiju reacted with irritation.
But Di did not get a chance to answer him. The noise and activity caught Papa’s attention and he stepped out from beside Di.
“What are you doing? Damad ji? Get away, it’s risky.” He said, taking utmost care that his voice won’t feel rude. But I knew how angry he had become, and he was to vent it out on someone. Instead of being mad at us for messing with the bees, Papa used it as an excuse to yell at Mummy – his favorite and easiest target.
“What a foolish woman you are? Can’t you tell them not to go near that beehive?” It was clearly unfair. But no one intervened. However, I noticed Jiju’s fingers moved inside into a tight fist and his face was showing clear hate for papa’s behavior.
Papa left for work shortly after, still grumbling. This was one more bad morning for mummy. It has been happening quite often for a couple of years. And I had got some hint of the reason as I had seen and heard my parents talk in the night, which I shouldn’t have witnessed at all.
Jiju drove Di to her exam hall, and I stayed home. By the time he returned, the house felt calm again. Mummy was used to Papa’s temper and always moved on from his outbursts quickly. When Jiju walked in, I was busy studying, so I didn't pay much attention. He headed straight to the kitchen where Mummy was cooking. Since it went quiet for a long time, I got curious, tiptoed to the edge of the corridor, and hid in the shadows where I could watch them.
Jiju was leaning against the wall, silent. Mummy noticed him and asked, “Damad ji, did you drop Meenakshi off safely?”
He just hummed in response, looking troubled. Then, he spoke, his voice sharp and sincere: “How can Papa behave so badly with you? I didn't like it at all.”
Mummy offered a forced smile, keeping her tone light. “It’s just his nature. I don’t let it bother me.” She had always been a devoted wife, brushing off insults to keep the peace.
“Why?” Jiju pressed, his expression filled with a level of concern that caught me off guard. “Why don’t you let it bother you? You don’t deserve this.”
Before Mummy could reply or hide her discomfort, Jiju grew restless. He walked right up to her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her firmly on the lips.
Mummy froze, completely stunned. I stood in the corridor, breathless and horrified, unable to process what I had just seen. It only lasted two seconds, but the air in the room shifted instantly.
Mummy dropped the knife she was holding, trembling. Before she could find her voice, Jiju turned and began walking toward the living room. I quickly stepped into the kitchen, pretending I had just arrived, and asked, “What happened?”
Jiju didn't look at me or answer; he just brushed past me. Mummy, clearly shaken and trying to hide her fear, stammered, “N-nothing, Babu.”
The entire morning had been strange, but that single moment changed everything. I had felt like something was off with Jiju since he arrived, but this was far more complicated and disturbing than I ever could have imagined.
—
The house felt different after that morning. Mummy, usually the anchor of our household, began to drift. She moved through the rooms with a measured, deliberate grace, but her eyes were always focused on the floor or the wall, rarely meeting with Jiju’s.
She was already troubled with Rambo’s entry in life and with Jiju’s weird advance in the kitchen, she was shocked so much that she had stopped engaging with Jiju. Earlier, Jiju was the type to crack a joke just to see Mummy roll her eyes and smile, a small, private concession in her busy day. Now, when he spoke, she offered only polite, to-the-point answers. She would busy herself with the laundry, the cooking, or the endless cleaning of the house, turning her back to him with a rigidity that was impossible to miss. Jiju seemed to notice, too. He would linger in the living room, a half-smile frozen on his face, waiting to have words with mummy, but it never came over a couple of days.
One stifling afternoon, when the heat seemed to settle into the very foundations of the house, Mummy walked into my room. She looked tired, and even more disturbed that sleep wouldn't fix her mood.
"Babu," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I am going to the ghat for the temple. Come with me."
I was already halfway through a plan to meet my friends in the evening. The thought of walking slowly to the temple, standing through prayers, and then sitting in silence was the last thing I wanted. I felt a surge of familiar teenage impatience. "Can’t you go alone? Or maybe ask someone else? I really wanted to go to the playground."
"Please," she said. It wasn't a request; it was a plea. She looked at me, and for a fleeting second, I saw a glimpse of her fear to go outside on her own that I had been witnessing since Rambo came to her life. And Jiju’s recent deed had made her uncomfortable all the time, that too, in our own house. I realized then that this wasn't about the temple or prayer; it was about seeking protection outside of the house, as she would calmly sit in the seclusion and get rid of her overwhelming feelings.
I sighed, dropping my plan and nodded yes.
As we were preparing to leave, Jiju emerged from the guest room. He had been reading, but he looked up the moment he heard our voices. He saw Mummy gathering her small bag and then looked at me, his brow furrowed with a practiced, casual concern.
"Going to the ghat?" he asked, his tone too light, too forced. "The heat is brutal today. Why don't you let me drive you both? It’ll save you the walk."
Mummy didn't even turn around. She kept her back to him, tightening the strap of her purse. "No," she said, her voice cold and final. "We prefer to walk."
Jiju’s hand, which had been reaching for his car keys on the hallway table, paused. He stood still, the silence stretching thin between them. He clearly wanted to join us, probably wanted to have words with mummy and clear the wall that had formed between them. But he saw the set of her shoulders, the way she refused to acknowledge his existence.
"Alright," he said quietly, his voice losing its forced cheer. "Be careful."
It was only me, Jiju and mummy in the backyard. And I noticed Jiju taking sneak peeks at mummy trying to engage me in his smart talks.
Suddenly, Jiju noticed the beehive by the bedroom window. It had turned quite large now.
“Let's have honey for breakfast, champ.” He said and asked me to look for a bucket and a long rod to collect it. Mummy who was cleaning the yard nearby overheard the plan. She panicked and warned us to stay away, telling us papa would get angry if he found out what we were to do. We ignored her. We wanted the honey, so we started trying to reach it.
“Would you have breakfast now, Jitesh?” Di enquired as she stepped out of the kitchen and suddenly she yelled, “Don’t… don’t touch it. Get back.”
“What?..” Jiju reacted with irritation.
But Di did not get a chance to answer him. The noise and activity caught Papa’s attention and he stepped out from beside Di.
“What are you doing? Damad ji? Get away, it’s risky.” He said, taking utmost care that his voice won’t feel rude. But I knew how angry he had become, and he was to vent it out on someone. Instead of being mad at us for messing with the bees, Papa used it as an excuse to yell at Mummy – his favorite and easiest target.
“What a foolish woman you are? Can’t you tell them not to go near that beehive?” It was clearly unfair. But no one intervened. However, I noticed Jiju’s fingers moved inside into a tight fist and his face was showing clear hate for papa’s behavior.
Papa left for work shortly after, still grumbling. This was one more bad morning for mummy. It has been happening quite often for a couple of years. And I had got some hint of the reason as I had seen and heard my parents talk in the night, which I shouldn’t have witnessed at all.
Jiju drove Di to her exam hall, and I stayed home. By the time he returned, the house felt calm again. Mummy was used to Papa’s temper and always moved on from his outbursts quickly. When Jiju walked in, I was busy studying, so I didn't pay much attention. He headed straight to the kitchen where Mummy was cooking. Since it went quiet for a long time, I got curious, tiptoed to the edge of the corridor, and hid in the shadows where I could watch them.
Jiju was leaning against the wall, silent. Mummy noticed him and asked, “Damad ji, did you drop Meenakshi off safely?”
He just hummed in response, looking troubled. Then, he spoke, his voice sharp and sincere: “How can Papa behave so badly with you? I didn't like it at all.”
Mummy offered a forced smile, keeping her tone light. “It’s just his nature. I don’t let it bother me.” She had always been a devoted wife, brushing off insults to keep the peace.
“Why?” Jiju pressed, his expression filled with a level of concern that caught me off guard. “Why don’t you let it bother you? You don’t deserve this.”
Before Mummy could reply or hide her discomfort, Jiju grew restless. He walked right up to her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her firmly on the lips.
Mummy froze, completely stunned. I stood in the corridor, breathless and horrified, unable to process what I had just seen. It only lasted two seconds, but the air in the room shifted instantly.
Mummy dropped the knife she was holding, trembling. Before she could find her voice, Jiju turned and began walking toward the living room. I quickly stepped into the kitchen, pretending I had just arrived, and asked, “What happened?”
Jiju didn't look at me or answer; he just brushed past me. Mummy, clearly shaken and trying to hide her fear, stammered, “N-nothing, Babu.”
The entire morning had been strange, but that single moment changed everything. I had felt like something was off with Jiju since he arrived, but this was far more complicated and disturbing than I ever could have imagined.
—
The house felt different after that morning. Mummy, usually the anchor of our household, began to drift. She moved through the rooms with a measured, deliberate grace, but her eyes were always focused on the floor or the wall, rarely meeting with Jiju’s.
She was already troubled with Rambo’s entry in life and with Jiju’s weird advance in the kitchen, she was shocked so much that she had stopped engaging with Jiju. Earlier, Jiju was the type to crack a joke just to see Mummy roll her eyes and smile, a small, private concession in her busy day. Now, when he spoke, she offered only polite, to-the-point answers. She would busy herself with the laundry, the cooking, or the endless cleaning of the house, turning her back to him with a rigidity that was impossible to miss. Jiju seemed to notice, too. He would linger in the living room, a half-smile frozen on his face, waiting to have words with mummy, but it never came over a couple of days.
One stifling afternoon, when the heat seemed to settle into the very foundations of the house, Mummy walked into my room. She looked tired, and even more disturbed that sleep wouldn't fix her mood.
"Babu," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I am going to the ghat for the temple. Come with me."
I was already halfway through a plan to meet my friends in the evening. The thought of walking slowly to the temple, standing through prayers, and then sitting in silence was the last thing I wanted. I felt a surge of familiar teenage impatience. "Can’t you go alone? Or maybe ask someone else? I really wanted to go to the playground."
"Please," she said. It wasn't a request; it was a plea. She looked at me, and for a fleeting second, I saw a glimpse of her fear to go outside on her own that I had been witnessing since Rambo came to her life. And Jiju’s recent deed had made her uncomfortable all the time, that too, in our own house. I realized then that this wasn't about the temple or prayer; it was about seeking protection outside of the house, as she would calmly sit in the seclusion and get rid of her overwhelming feelings.
I sighed, dropping my plan and nodded yes.
As we were preparing to leave, Jiju emerged from the guest room. He had been reading, but he looked up the moment he heard our voices. He saw Mummy gathering her small bag and then looked at me, his brow furrowed with a practiced, casual concern.
"Going to the ghat?" he asked, his tone too light, too forced. "The heat is brutal today. Why don't you let me drive you both? It’ll save you the walk."
Mummy didn't even turn around. She kept her back to him, tightening the strap of her purse. "No," she said, her voice cold and final. "We prefer to walk."
Jiju’s hand, which had been reaching for his car keys on the hallway table, paused. He stood still, the silence stretching thin between them. He clearly wanted to join us, probably wanted to have words with mummy and clear the wall that had formed between them. But he saw the set of her shoulders, the way she refused to acknowledge his existence.
"Alright," he said quietly, his voice losing its forced cheer. "Be careful."
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