Sunday, March 7, 2010

The dictator

He is a veritable dictator. An unrelenting tyrant. A typical despot. He keeps me on my toes round the clock. He doesn’t give me a second’s time of respite. I am compelled to dance to his tunes. His peremptory orders are to be carried out instantly. He permits no arguments, no alternatives, no adjournments.

He has turned my world topsy-turvy. Utter chaos prevails where everything remained spick and span formerly. There is no stopping his trespasses. He stalks nonchalantly my domain with authority and audacity.

His menu is exotic, exacting and extraordinary. And often impossible. He is highly temperamental. His moods swing from shrieking joy to screaming pathos. He is all hugs and kisses one minute and races into a brutal beating spree the next, sparing no part of the body. Caught inside this whirlpool of tantrums, a total surrender is the only way out.

His preference rules in TV channel surfing. His touring pleasures are to be carried out immediately. His incessant questions have to be answered in the most convincing way. His mind is filled with a never-dying curiosity of the keenest kind. His non-stop battery of unworldly demands keeps me for ever on the alert in order to have them readily executed. No use trying to question the priority of his wishes over mine.
No beauty sleeps for me if it does not please His Majesty. I am expected to be his obedient playmate in what game his fancy is attracted to at the moment. The rascal laughingly turns a blind eye to my being a panting, puffing pair to his rapturously giddying pirouettes. His strong predilection for boisterous pranks keeps me in a state of constant terror.

Still, I run his errands with pleasure. His commands are obeyed implicitly. I keep aside my pet projects, personal preferences and favourite pastimes to make myself available when the lord wants my company. Strangely though,I have no complaints, no grudges.

The most unpredictable tornado happens to be my first darling grandson who has learnt to wind me round his little finger – old enough to articulate intelligently his whims and fancies. AND he has a LONG line of successors just waiting to catch up with him. Am I not content to be engulfed into the most endearing serfdom of the chastest pleasures of love!

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