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A quick tale 66


She was sorry his coffee was not hot enough. She regretted that their food was so cold. She apologised for the weather not being good. Wasn’t she sad that their car had broken down. Surely it was her fault that their son had not passed the exam. How terrible she felt that the bank had not approved their loan. She took responsibility for the trains being late. And the baby being born early. And the government bans and the traffic jams. It was all down to her. It’s my mistake, it’s my mistake, it’s all my mistake, she admitted. When really, she couldn’t give a damn. A rat’s ass. Or a row of pins.


labdab said…
A punch on his face might help ;-)
Anjali said…
nice and powerful
Me said…
excellent ...
Maruthu said…
Hi Ammani,

your quick tale has been featured in Today's Hindu Metro Plus.

Its about the Women's in Blogging.

My english is sorry if any mistake.

Vijay said…
I used to be a prolific, if not a proficient writer. And suddenly one day I lost the urge to pen my inspirations down...or did I lose my inspirations themselves?

A few days back I came here. And now, I can't stop myself from writing even if I want to.

Shyam said…
Easier to just accept the blame wholesale than argue about it. Right on the nail, Ammani :) And I second Labdab's comment!
Paavai said…
denial-anger-self doubt- reconciliation-action in that order when an external force breaks the self esteem
j said…
yep same are here

also here

you dont run do you?
rajesh said…
He was sorry the AC in the room was not cold enough. He regretted that the coke he ordered for her was so warm. He apologised for the raindrops that escaped the umbrella that he held over her head. Wasn’t he sad that the traffic signal continued to be red? Surely it was his fault that their son did not qualify for the tennis finals. How terrible he felt that her credit card limit got maxed out. He took responsibility for the her being late,busy applying the nth coating of lipstick. And the baby food that he bought last week, getting over early. And the government bandhs and the oversweet mango jams. It was all down to him. It’s my mistake, it’s my mistake, it’s all my mistake, he admitted. When really, he couldn’t give a damn. A rat’s ass. Or a row of pins.
But then he knew something for sure..
A punch on her face would not help make things better either!
This is very informative. I hope to see more in the near future

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Married for 31 years, 2 months and 17 days
Six cups coffee a day, brewed everyday of marriage
Three meals a day,
At least two dishes cooked, each meal-time
One snack for every Sunday
Big basket of clothes ironed every Tuesday
Average 18 items of clothing washed per day
Three children
1 miscarriage
One mother-in-law suffered
900 sq metre of floor space mopped, once a day
One caesarean endured
3 chicken poxes, 2 measles, 2 fractures, 8 diarrhoeas, depression, conjunctivitis every summer, 1 tonsilitis and countless common colds and flues
1 job held for 29 years
6 hours slept every night
Sex tolerated every 2nd week
Religious rituals everyone of them, carried out
Not one of them, believed in
Lived 52 years and some
Died exhausted

Overheard, “At least she had the satisfaction of having lived for her family”

The Saturday Poem

Found this in yesterday's paper. Again, I wish I'd written it.


Now and Then

"Now that I'm fifty-seven",
My mother used to say,
"Why should I waste a minute?
Why should I waste a day

Doing the things I ought to
Simply because I should?
Now that I'm fifty-seven
I'm done with that for good."

But now and then I'd catch her
Trapped in some thankless chore
Just as she might have been at
Fifty-three or fifty-four

And I would say to her
(And I have to bite my tongue)
That if you mean to learn a skill
It's well worth starting young

And so, to make sure I'm in time
For fifty, I've begun
To do exactly as I please
Now that I'm thirty-one.

-Sophie Hannah

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Annon's story

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