My mother and the landlord (Slow burn, long read)

[Authorsunny]

Chapter 27 – Wednesday (continued)  
3 December 2025 – Wednesday

She turned the glass in her hands. The purple polish caught the grill light. She looked at the glass, then at me, then at the dead phone still black on the charger.

“So it all started when we both…”

My phone rang.

The sound cut the sentence in half. Too loud for this room. The cheap tone I have not changed since joining. The screen said Rohan.

Office.

I looked at it. I could not avoid it. In delivery week a call from the cluster at this hour is not a joke about tea. It is a file, a client line, a *where are you*.

“Take it, beta,” Ma said. The smile closed. The story closed with it. “It must be work.”

I stood and walked two steps toward the window because that is what I do when the house is small and a call needs a little air.

“Yes, Rohan.”

Rohan started with the evening meeting. Which sheet. Which log. Whether Sinha sir wanted the old numbers or the revised ones. I said the names of files. I said yes. I said I had put it in the shared folder.

While I spoke I watched Ma.

She had got up.

She went to my charger first. She picked up her phone with both hands like it might break. She pressed the side button.

This time it turned on.

The Samsung logo. The slow load. The screen coming alive with that cheap brightness. Her face changed at once. Happy. Relief so clear it made her look younger for a second. She turned the glass toward me and showed it, eyes wide, mouth open on a smile, as if I had fixed a person and not a battery.

I nodded, still on the call.

She unlocked it.

I saw the face after the unlock.

Not happy.

Pale.

The kind of pale that comes when a screen is too full. Missed calls stacked. Messages stacked. A name at the top that I did not need to read from across the room.

A little panic.

She was already moving. Kitchen. The curtain rings. She was dialling before the curtain had even fallen back. I heard the tone. I heard her breath.

Rohan was still talking. I said yes twice and ended it as soon as the sheet names were done.

“I will be leaving in ten minutes,” I told him.

I cut.

The house was quiet except for her voice in the kitchen.

I wanted the other side of that face.

I did not go to the kitchen door. I sat back on the chair as if I was only finishing tea. The folding table is close enough. The curtain is not a wall. In this flat a person who wants to hear, hears.

She was already on the line.

His voice leaked first as a scbang. Then it came through.

“The whole night, Anjali. Dead. What do you mean dead. I called. I called again. I sat with this phone in my hand like a fool. What is this?”

“Azad Sahab, its the battery,” she said, quick, already small. “I put it on charge, I swear. Whole night. Morning also it was not coming. I thought it will come after some time. Sunny also tried. He put it on his charger. Then only it opened just now—”

“Don’t give me charger stories.” The bark was short. “Evening also I tried. Two times. It ringed, but there was no callback. What is this. You disappear for hours and then you come with a battery excuse. I was about to come upstairs at night. I stopped myself. You should thank that I stopped. Next time I will not stop Anjali.”

Evening.

Yesterday evening. When she had been on her stomach with balm. When the phone had lit on the sheet and died in my hand. When I had put it back and not plugged it.

“I know you got angry,” she said. She did not raise her voice. “It was the phone. Not me. Please trust me Azad Sahab, would I switch it off on purpose? Think once.”

“You wait for my messages. That is what you told me. Then why was it dead when I wanted you. I waited downstairs. Don’t talk to me like I am the milkman asking for last month’s bill.”

“No Azad Sahab, I am sorry if it came out that way…..also, last night I slept early. Back was paining from morning. I put balm. I thought I will only lie down for some time. Then sleep came. I did not even hear. You know how I am when sleep comes in the day. Like somebody switched me off. I didn’t do it purposely, Azad Sahab.”

“Back.” He said the word as if he was tasting it. “You slept with a dead phone because of your back. Then you should have called me. I would have arranged a doctor. What kind of stupid behaviour is this. Back is paining and the phone is dead. Am I some stranger. I am the man who was inside you yesterday and you cannot pick a call.”

She lowered her voice further.

“Don’t ask about the back as if you don’t know. From yesterday only it started. After you. You held me in that position for so long. You didn’t let me turn when I said it was too deep. And then you are asking why I slept….”

A small pause and then she said giggling “You were the reason for the back pain…hehe”

The giggle was low. Private. It did not belong on top of a doctor sentence.

From the other side I heard the change. A breath. The anger did not vanish. It sat closer.

“So now you remember. Yesterday you were saying take, take, don’t stop. Today you are saying back pain. You can take a man like that in the afternoon and then you cannot keep a phone alive. Say it properly. Say your back is hurting because I used you the way I wanted.”

She turned her face toward the fridge wall, away from my side of the curtain.

“Please. I said am sorry Azad Sahab. I didn’t do it intentionally. It will not repeat, I promise. I will keep it on charge. Next to me. I am telling you.”

A whisper after that. I leaned half an inch. The chair did not creak. He said something which I couldn't hear properly. 

“I will accept the punishment.” Another giggle, smaller, caught in the throat. “offoo…shhhh…don’t say like that when I am in the kitchen. He is outside only. He can hear if you speak like that.”

“Let him hear. He has been hearing for weeks. You think the boy is a statue. I don't care.”

She whispered again.

“Offoo, please Azad Sahab, don't talk like that about him…”

Then a pause from her side. She was listening. Her fingers were on the edge of the counter. I could see that much through the thin curtain. The light green blouse. The bare arm. The gold bangle.

He was speaking, I could only hear the noise, but couldn't make out what was he speaking exactly.

“At six?” Ma said in the phone surprisingly. The worry was instant, but the voice stayed low. “It will get late then, Azad Sahab. Sunny will be home before we come back, how can I…”

The other side did not like that sentence.

“You have come to me so many times with the boy sitting in that house. Did you forget the celebration night and day after? Did you forget the monday? Are you that naive to pretend that the boy didn't notice anything when he entered the room? Comeon Anjali, what new drama is this. It is your job to handle your son. If you cannot handle him, I will come upstairs and explain it to Sunny in my own way. I will tell him what his mother is. I will tell him who she belongs to. The boy will listen then. He already looks at you. He already knows. Don’t use him as a lock on my time.”

“Accha ji… ok ok. First calm down. I am not saying no. When have I said no. I am only saying that…..”

A breath.

“Anyways, but even if we go, I don’t even have proper clothes. The ones I have won’t look right there. I should at least match the status of others around.”

I saw her face sideways through the curtain. She smiled. Small. Toned down.

Then she whispered. Then she nodded, as if he could see the nod through the phone.

Then I could again hear his voice.

“I want to see you in black. Deep neck sleeveless matching blouse. And buy a new wired bra too. The one that pushes you up. Understood?.”

“Wired one? Why so much of obsession with it? It hurts, na. The underwire sits wrong the whole time. It leaves a mark. You know it already. Still you insist.”

“That is what I like. I like leaving marks on you. You said you will accept the punishment, treat this as your punishment, haha. Wear it. If it hurts, it hurts.”

“Azad…”

It was not a no.

“Okay, okay, I’ll wear it. Don’t start again. Black saree. That bra. I understood.”

I looked at the wall clock.

It had been more than fifteen minutes since Rohan’s call. If I sat more I would actually be late.

I got up, even though I wanted to hear further.

The chair made the sound.

The bag went onto my shoulder. The tiffin was already packed from the roti box — two rotis, the dry sabzi, pickle. I had not even seen her close the lid. It was on the table. I took it.

The sound made her glance back once from the kitchen. For one second her face was still the phone face. Soft mouth. Colour on the cheek. 

“Drive safely, beta,” she said, the phone still at her ear, the mother-voice put on top of the other one.

“I’ll message when I reach.”

“Yes.”

I was at the door when the bell rang.

Short. Ordinary. The same cheap sound this house has used for years.

From the kitchen she did not move. She did not even turn. The phone was still at her ear. She was still saying something low — “you are so naughty… yes… I know how you like the pallu…” — as if the bell belonged to another building.

I opened the door.

The same boy as yesterday. Thin. Sixteen or seventeen. Small black polythene in his hand. The smell came up before he spoke. Skin. Bone. Red-white flesh.

I already knew.

“Money is already paid,” he said. 

Behind me her voice went on in the kitchen, unaware.

I took the polythene with two fingers.

I did not look inside. I did not need to.

I turned, walked to the folding table, and dropped it there. The bag made a small, wet sound on the wood, next to the two steel glasses and the dead charger wire.

The boy was already going down the stairs. His slippers slapped the steps.

I picked up my bag again.

She still had not come out. The curtain was still a curtain. The giggle was still in her throat.

I walked out and pulled the door from outside.

The compound had the usual morning. Milk. A scooter. The watchman on his chair with tea.

The strip where the white sedan stands was empty.

Azad had already gone.