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3 mins

I never thought in dream that my son would change after marriage. Before that, in past, he tried to love a girl that doesn't suits to our caste so I oppose him and coercively done his marriage in our caste. But my hopes on him still lingering in mind he would support preserve our olden age but from the married day, he becomes henpecked and become property for inlaws. Whenever I quarrel with him he laughs sarcastically as like movie villain and talks weird devour nonveg like eating the demon.

He loves his wife earnestly and we become jealous of that. So we both thought over it the whole night and come to the conclusion that his in-laws might have done voodoo on him. And his wife doing all work whole day and night without any protest mostly looking after all his things giving keys giving his underwear pressing his clothes only. On his payment, while he counting notes before her she stands there like an immovable we thought she may guarding whether her husband would donate our money for our sickness or other expenses. So I and my wife come to a conclusion.

That she might be looting his money while they were in their privacy at night. So I thought to catch her red hand we should fit CCTV camera in their room because we cannot blame her or accuse her without evidence.

Further, after many days are gone they are taking the money off my pension for every required grocery or to pay light bill gas maintenance etc even. I had undergone gall bladder surgery he never brings fruits for me even on his payment day. Even though I was weakening physically he says sarcastically. This olden age is useless so every old man should donate their eye kidney and heart to needy people and that money we got would be spent for their grandson educations and future, cause there is full uncertainty of life when would attack comes.

Now they are exploiting our money. As rent for living dining in their house still we both meek without protest any objection eats what they serve and sleeps with no conversation with each other in darkness of room where I can not write or read what I feel still I am passionate to read Dr. Zhivago trainer Maria Rilke godfather and Tolstoy what I collected from footpath of Mumbai still I have passion to write but what the hell in this dungeons?

If you lean in every house you will find a story like this. Now I felt I could not save my son. Not past in past love affair and not now. I am obsessed with one question what is this love that prevents to say once daddy and neglect this our past drudgery and starvation? This all bitter consequences of our honesty virtuousness and compassion or we should think and wish them to live happily and wander anywhere on earth homeless for their utmost love.

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