BEHIND THE FACADE OF GLITTERATI

Mummy

 Mummy, Pappa, made for each other. Their mutual love and harmony truly marvellous. 

 

Mummy, cute, wheatish, medium-built, not that fat, not that lean, height too medium. Though in her late forties still looks young. Smiles bewitching attractive, seductive, enchanting, well-dressed, a treat to watch in her sleevless blouse, glittering saree, cropped hair, spot of vermillion in the parting on forehead, busy always while at home, frequent mobile contacts, and visits to other friends’ apartments all high up in the ladder, high society ladies all. Mummy smokes, drinks but God-fearing she is, have a pooja room and fond of pilgrimage to temples far and wide.

 

Pappa 

 

Handsome guy, always well-dressed, like Mummy pleasant throughout, nothing to worry about, top-class executive in a prestigious firm, though of humble origin, with not much ado, yes with not much ado, as if in a magic finds himself at the top of the ‘career building’. All thanks to her dedication to her better-half secret behind her husband’s success, position and power. Thank God, she is great, his Supreme Deity.

 

Outings

 

Evenings always great, memorable, eventful. Both drive down the serpentine streets, past hoots and toots of vehicles, passing crowds moving down the pavements, jumping signals, buildings, small and tall, left and right.

Clubs, parties, all high-society guys, gents and ladies cracking jokes, playing games, carroms, chess, billiards, table-tennis, women in groups, sharing tall talks, derisively mocking at the ones at the lower strata of society, little sweet talks praising each other’s glittering costumes, the mobile talks and secrets shared during the day.

 

Then all inside the lighted rooms, decorated with luxurious items, dining table, chairs around, sofa sets leaning against the walls, all flock under the same roof, while the city roars outside immersed in light under streets lamps, share drinks, get inebriated, piercing smell of malboros pervading the ambience, the exhilarating music, partner dances lasting for hours enjoying each moment, half-conscious, half-blank, make merry to each’s heart’s content.

 

Then each come out, move towards cars parked in a criss-cross pattern, drive dangerously, sometimes even knocking down innocent pedestrians albeit escape with nominal compensation.

 

Daughter, through the window watch occasionally her parents reaching late into the night intoxicated, sometimes she cares not, all their personal and private matters. Her private room that is in the upper floor a blessing in many ways. Enjoying rock music, watching televisions, reclining pleasurably in the sofa set smoking, drinking and dancing.

 

Daughter

 

Daughter keeps always aloof from them and they never care to interfere in her personal matters. Love, dating, friends, boys or girls. She cares not, they care not. Mum and papa really sweet.

 

In the nights with her silent visitor approaching from stealthily and in his embrace enjoys her moments, pleasurable moments, with nothing to fear about and no one noticing. So what if someone notices? Asks she herself.

 

If papa and mummy can, why can’t I? Role-models they are. And she a typical city girl.

 

SON

 

Once in a while he comes from a distant city. No time schedule. No one inquires, no one enquires. Once in a month, once in two month, six months, all depends. Papa, Mummy not bothered. Sister not bothered.

 

Lonely moments he spends listening wild music, he likes, loves, after two or three pegs, consume drugs which lift him to a psychedelic world, mobiles working overtime, calls from the distant city, his friends both girls and boys, all sophisticated, sometimes feels like inquiring his sister’s well-being, for him the only one somewhat, yes somewhat, special to her. Dreams, occasional dreams, emotional dreams rare true but they visit him in his loneliness in a drunken state the face of his silent weeping sister born to accursed parents like him, her plight and bleak future paining him. He too in his loneliness sheds tears and after a short-while tears get dried-up. Papa and mummy - hatred wells within him

 

VISITOR

 

Dark, stout, tall figure, in safari visits the bungalow once in a while only person, papa and mummy hold in high esteem both walk up to the gate a warm welcome befitting a VIP being  accorded to him they bow down before him and touch his feet.

 

His swaggering style serious smile, confident looks, all fill them with respect, dedication and devotion.

 

Papa’s boss. Papa’s  God in the guise of a boss. Mummy’s God in the guise of her beloved’s boss.

 

Drawing room. Cordial talks over three or four pegs, can be more, depends, boss casts his bewitching eyes on Mummy, Papa pretending not noticing the scene. “Let them have fun” – he whispers to himself. Mummy’s shyness, biting her lower lip, her looks also raunchy, Papa sensing the mood of both tell both, ‘have a nice time’ and retires to his island of loneliness. No. What else follows don’t feel like penning, read between the lines.

 

A cross-section of a high-level society barring exceptions a permissive society, where values crumble, ethics erode, ‘borders’ getting irrelevant, greed, avarice and selfishness overtaking all things sacred, where only status, wealth and power matter, nothing less, nothing more.