Worth It (One Shot)

Worth It

Worth it

By Anuradha Dev

"Shilpa, can you please check why my Sony Liv is not working? Didn't you pay for the subscription the last time I asked you to?" My mother-in-law, or Mummy, calls out to me from her room while I'm frying Kofta in the pan. I can't leave it; it'll become dark brown from pink pretty quick. On another stove, I've onion cooking for the gravy. It's almost there. I'll have to add tomatoes soon.

I call out, "Mummy, are you sure you're logged in?"

"I don't know, Bete. I don't understand all these things. Please come and check."

Ugh, well, if you don't understand, why don't you watch Tata sky? Why do you always have to have updated technology on your TV when you can't use it yourself?

I'm just about done with Kofta and have closed the cooker with the gravy. I'm preparing myself mentally to help Mummy when I get a call from my father-in-law.

"Shilpa, someone is at the door to see me. Please let them in, get them seated, ask Chai-coffee. I'll be there in ten minutes.".

"Okay, Papa," I say with a huff.

"And Bete, if you can prepare some snacks like sandwiches, anything, not much, for them... it would be great," he adds.

"Okay," I say and disconnect the call.

Papa so casually adds 'just whip up some sandwiches,' as if I'm a Genie. He'll make a wish and whatever he wants would be on the table.

The mental space of the good daughter-in-law I am trying to achieve has gone four steps behind. I want to scream.

A middle-aged, spectacled man is at the door. "Is Mr. Awasthi home?"

I smile at him. "Namaste, Uncle. No, he's not home, but he'll be there in ten minutes. Please come on in."

I show him the living room and ask him, "Would you like to have tea or coffee?"

"No, Bete. I'll wait for him," he says, taking the brown color L-shaped leather sofa. I fill a glass with water in the kitchen and serve the guest.

He asks, "Are you his daughter?"

Uh-oh, no small talk Sir, please! I've to make sandwiches for you.

"No, I'm his daughter-in-law. If you'll excuse me, I've got something on the stove."

"Oh yes, Bete. You carry on."

My son comes running down the stairs. "Mumma, I'm hungry. What's for dinner?"

"Kofta curry, and dal with roti," I say, not looking at him, dreading his reaction. I open the fridge to grab some cucumbers.

"Yuck! Mom, can't you make something good? You know I don't like Kofta and YOU MAKE DAL EVERY DAY." His face turns red.

"Dadi wanted to eat Kofta and Dadu wants dal every day. Your grandparents are old people. I can't say no to them," I say, feeling guilty for not accommodating him.

"I won't have dinner today," he says.

"Okay, then drink milk and eat fruits."

"No." He pouts and goes back up the stairs.

Bloody kids! They have problems with everything.

By the time I go back to the gravy on the stove, it's coal. I switch off the stove fast but it's beyond redemption.

Fuck it! I'll have to start from scratch.

"Shilpa," Mummy shouts from her room. "Please come here whenever you're free."

I grunt. Oh, God! I forgot she was waiting for me. "Yes, Mummy." I carry on slicing the cucumber for the sandwiches with the knife. Would have been nice if it was someone's throat.

A hand touches my shoulder, and I jerk away, almost cutting my finger. I turn around.

"Ah, Vikki, it's you." I smile with relief. "You're home early."

"Happy Valentine's Day!" He slides his hands from my arms to my fingers and laces his fingers with mine.

This touch.

I close my eyes and feel the irritation ebbing away.

"You seem busy. Can I help you?"

I smile. "Nah, I'm fine."

"Shilpa," Mummy calls again.

"I'll see what she wants." Vikki kisses me on the forehead and walks out.

I watch him go. He is worth it.

###

Dear readers 

Sometimes I feel like writing flash fiction(short stories under 1500 words). they take less time but are challenging because you have to make the readers feel in minimum words. 

Please let me know if I've been successful in making you feel the woman's frustration and love in the end. Please vote and comment.  

Thank you for reading it. 

Love

Anu