Another of my brother's wild stories:
"So there used to be a couple, deep in love with each other, married for about a decade, with a male child. But few years afterwards, the husband's behaviour saw terrible failure, as he took to spend his night stays at hotels with ladies all around.
The poor wife had to suffer in agony of missing her husband and constant physical pain inflicted on the poor soul for no reason by him. What had so suddenly caused a drastic change in his behaviour, no one knew, yet she tried to keep her son protected from all these, not even a shadow of him must try to even scratch him.
The woman tried her best to make him return to his track, but patience was finally diminishing. For how long would she tolerate all these? So she decided to take the matter in her own hands, as one morning while he came back home all drunk, she confronted him."
I was again alert. "What happened next?"
"Well, Tinni, the man was in rage, as when matters got to be spoken out so openly by her, he took a stone, and killed her into pieces, while the son was away at school and buried her himself."
He paused for a while. I started shaking vigorously.
"He knew he had committed a mistake. And being a father, he understood how important a mother was to a child, but he had ended up all. He was quite terrified as he repented for being so angry, but somehow he knew he couldn't back off. Yet what reply should he give to his son when he comes back home to ask for his mother?
He did not know.
The son finally came, but no questions on his mind. He was given lunch, dinner by the father, yet no interrogation regarding his mother. The child watched television, ate, played, studied all alone, in complete silence. He never felt the need to ask about his mother's whereabouts. The silence killed the father. He waited each day to feel more terrified about the answer he would have to give his child when he asks.. He expected questions, yet got silence in return. Two days passed, and slowly a week, more weeks, months, and yet no questions."
"Then?" I asked.
"Till the day he could take it no longer.
Once while eating dinner, he put down his fists over the dining table, agitated, irritated, asking the son, 'Son, what's your problem?'
The son looked blankly at him, without any clue of what his Dad was shouting at him for.
'Your mother has been missing for so many months, and yet even for once you didn't feel the need to ask about where she is while you were so attached to her?' Asked the father.
The Son behaved as he had been dropped onto the scene that time.
'What's wrong with you?' Asked the dad.
'Why dad? Mother has been with you throughout all these times, besides you everytime. See, she is still smiling and staring at you besides, are you turning all blind?' The son replied, pointing a finger besides where his Dad was standing."
