Dear Son,
The other day you asked me what I wanted to know. Well, here it is... when are you going to realise that all girls are evil personified?
Women are like bags of pus at the base of an infected tooth; they rot the spirit of the person they infect. Even that day, I had been trying to drive home the point, but before I could, we crashed!
I knew, the day you were born that I was sent by the Lord to rid the earth of all hell-born Jezebels. My sole mission became to save your soul from the devilish clutches of shameless women and I feel proud to say that I was successful.
It had been an acutely traumatic moment for me when you came back home one afternoon from school, flaunting a silver ring on your finger, Hi mom, how’s this beauty? Elisa gave it to me!
Fortunately, I had been cutting sandwiches for our dinner and the knife came down in one broad sweep, neatly slicing off your malignant finger. To this day, I feel blessed thinking that the vile ring had not touched your skin for too long, thanks to my intuitive response.
Do you remember that white whey-faced cat of a girl, Marie who was found dead in our backyard a few summers later? The police had shut the case, stating it as an accidental death, resulting from a heavy flowerpot falling off the windowsill and hitting her squarely on the head. But it had been my instinctive feeling towards you that made me play the role of a caretaker.
I watched with disbelieving eyes when she walked into our house to bring in our dog. Though my nerves became as taut as bowstrings, I strained them to throw the pot, aiming well. The wicked trollop collapsed in a heap on the ground and my wretched soul was saved.
Henceforth, things stayed on an even keel. But the Lord tests his children and you asked for my permission to attend the prom dance on your graduation from medical school.
Cold chills went down my spine and I crucified my hands till they swelled and had ghoulish penitent wounds in them. For the next day and a half, you didn’t even get dressed, you just stayed home mouthing suicide threats.
When you suddenly got up to go for a drive, I too got in the car with you in order to keep an eye on you. It was in the car that you asked me what I wanted to know - and a moment later we crashed.
The next few years, you seemed to be on an exuberant new phase, but alas Janet happened! A colleague who thought that surprising you with a dinner at our new apartment was a bright idea.
The bell rang for several seconds before I was startled out of my deep sleep. I sensed in a moment that it was the death bell tolling. I opened the door just in time she had been preparing to leave.
"Hi, is Arnold in?"
Blood roared in my ears and I could taste the putrid yellow bile in my mouth as I heard your name emanate from her lips. I could have slashed off her filthy lips there and then, but I invited her in.
Later, as I stared at her lifeless body, behind the wheel of her car, delicious thrills of joy coursed through me. The morphine-laced tea had done the trick and she had met with a well-deserved fate on the highway.
Years went by and never once did I complain of the twisted skein of life; that women still existed and therefore still came in the range of your vision.
Yesterday, I came to know that Emily, a nurse in your facility was dining with you at our apartment. Obviously, I had to do something. Your pager beeped and you left to attend an emergency, assuring Emily that you would be back soon.
A few moments later, I rang the bell. When she opened the door, I hastily explained that I had unexpectedly cut short my visit to my sick sister.
"Oh, Ma’am, you must be tired; you look a little pale", she said. "I guess I should leave", she added.
I watched her discreetly as she waited for the elevator and dialed your cell.
"How’s Mrs Blair?" I heard her saying.
And then, "Well, that’s strange that it was a prank call. By the way, Arnie love, you never said anything about your mother. I just met her..."
" What?! Your mother died in a car crash seven years ago. Then, who..." and she stepped into the elevator.
A long drawn scream cut off her words mid-sentence as the lift went crashing down 40 floors. It really isn’t too hard to rig a pulley, even for a spirit!
She called you Arnie love, wasn’t it? Vulgarity dripped from those words that she uttered, so it is just as well that she can utter no more.
Now Arnold, my self control is wearing thin; I am afraid that it might snap at any time as I do have a tendency to torment my spirit (well that’s all that is left anyway) needlessly by dwelling on worst case scenarios.
So, it’s time I told you what I wanted to know just before I died:
"How many more lives do I have to take before you come to your senses? For all we know, yours might be the next one on line. I don’t want to be the one to say, I told you so..."
Your Mother
By Nomita Khanna