Patience pays.
Those are the words I remember you by, Mamma.
I was all of 6 years old and had my first science project in class, the sprouting of a seed by placing it on a wad of wet cotton. Remember Mamma, how excited I was, running to the windowsill every 5 minutes, to watch if my plant had grown.
In the end, quite dizzy watching me run all over the place, you took away the little paper cup and placed it high above on top of the cupboard, way beyond my reach. In spite of my crying myself to sleep that night you didn’t return it to me. Patience does pay Mamma. When you got it down the next day after I got back from school, the seed had sprouted, and I learned my lesson.
I learned the lesson yet again as you made my favorite ice cream during the summer holidays. Oh, how I begged you to have just one lick of the spoon while you churned it! You didn’t let me, Mamma. When I tried to reach for it, you twisted my arm and pounded my hands till they were swollen to twice their size. You ate the ice cream while I watched and didn’t let me have any till my hands healed. Yes Mamma, patience certainly pays.
Remember when I broke your favorite china doll? How angry you were! You locked me up in the dank, dark storeroom even as I cried and begged to be let out. The rustling of rats made me wet my pants, as I banged my little fists on the door, pleading for mercy, beseeching you to let me out. All you reminded me was “Patience pays”.
I don’t know when I stopped crying, but I woke up to the sound of the door opening and it was bright daylight.
If only that lizard had been taught that patience pays. I swear Mamma, I meant to let it go. I nailed its body to the wall just to see if it would try to escape. It writhed and tried to get away even before I could set it free. I was so fascinated by its frenetic movements that I didn’t even realize when it had stopped moving. It was dead, Mamma. Tsk, tsk. I wish someone had taught the lizard that patience pays. It would still be alive.
I know you still don’t believe me mamma, but I swear to God I wasn’t smoking when you caught me in the garage. I had found a cigarette and was looking at it closely, trying to see what a lit cigarette looks like.
I was 11, Mamma. Too young to smoke, don’t you think?
You didn’t listen to reason and made me stand, naked as the day I was born, in the scorching May sun. My little feet burned and my parched throat hurt. You didn’t even let me come in for a drink of water, Mamma. My bladder was close to bursting, but you didn’t let me relieve myself. It was sometime in the evening when I fainted, and woke up in a pool of my own waste.
Patience pays Mamma. I agreed with you then. After three whole days in the blazing sun, lying naked in my waste, I vowed never to look at a cigarette in my life again.
I became so very patient Mamma. Because I realized it paid.
Susie Holmes, the most beautiful girl in class, called me ‘weirdo’ when I asked her out to the prom. It hurt me so much, but I didn’t mind it very much after I remembered that patience pays. I stalked her for a whole year, before I finally strangled her, Mamma.
Remember our neighbor Mrs. Hallam’s dog that just didn’t stop barking the whole time? How you hated it. How happy you were when it finally stopped barking one day. Everyone went searching for that dog, even me, but no one found it. How could they, Mamma, when I had electrocuted it and buried it in our own backyard.
I did all I could to make you happy, Mamma, but you still didn’t love me. But I loved you so much, Mamma, and waited for you to love me back because you are the one who had taught me that patience pays.
I didn’t mean to hurt you, Mamma. But I guess you’ll never believe me. You never have. I gagged your mouth because I couldn’t bear to see you scream in agony. It must have hurt a little as I ripped your fingernails one by one. Hope it didn’t hurt a lot. I was so very patient, wasn’t I, Mamma?
A nail a day.
If the nails hurt so much, I wonder how much it hurt as I chopped your arm off. I remember how your eyes bulged and how you flailed your head from side to side. I was in equal agony, Mamma. I cried more than you could imagine, cradling the hand I had chopped off a week ago and begging it for forgiveness.
I am so sorry I had to do the same on your other hand too. I hated doing that mamma! I hated it, believe me! But I had to because one hand was lonely without its companion.
I took such good care of you, didn’t I, Mamma? I bathed you and fed you. I combed your hair and cleaned you up, did I ever let you feel you didn’t have hands? I even placed your hands beside you so that you never miss them. See how much I loved you.
I hadn’t forgotten that patience pays, and I didn’t disturb you for a while after that. I imagined how much your arms must have hurt, that’s the reason I crushed your kneecaps.
Both together. In a few swift blows. You were fast asleep when I did it, Mamma; I don’t think you even felt it. If you did feel it, did it hurt a lot?
Oh, how time flies! It was almost 5 months now that had we only had each other for company. None of the neighbors ever asked about your absence too. I am sure they must have wondered, but they never cared to ask. They were just bad neighbors.
Oh, Mamma, I missed you so. We couldn’t talk like old times anymore. I did remove your gag when I fed you and asked you how you were feeling. You never answered me and it hurt me so.
The one time I forgot to stuff the gag back, you screamed and screamed till I thought you would wake the entire neighborhood. I was so scared for a moment. That wasn’t a very nice thing to do now, was it now, Mamma?
Every time I get your tongue out from the icebox to show you, I am sure you miss it. Do you miss the feel of your tongue in your mouth now, Mamma?
You could still track my movements with your one good eye, Mamma. While your other one rested in aspic at your bedside. After I had gouged it out. It looked so pretty, in the clear liquid, and even as you slept, that eye followed me around everywhere in the room.
Your one good eye stared at me one last time, as I disemboweled you, Mamma. That must have hurt a lot I am sure. I am so sorry Mamma, but I had to do it.
I cannot keep you with me any longer. I am so sorry, Mamma. Its been two long years, that I have been sleeping with your rotting carcass by my side. I cleaned you, bathed you, clothed you, and fed you as best as I could, but my patience had worn out now.
Rest well, Mamma. You have Hallam’s dog and my pretty girlfriend Susie with you for the company. Don’t be lonely. I’ll send someone more to join you soon. Be patient Mamma, because as you always said, patience pays.
This is my 2nd Post for #MyFriendAlexa with Blogchatter
My Alexa Global Rank on the 1st of October is 184,298
This reminded me of something I wrote in my novel – around a decade ago. Guess what, the novel got rejected by 16 publishers and I had to shelve it. But the reality of is that such mother-daughter relationships do exist and even if the daughter didn’t really do all those things to the mother, she surely imagined them.
I am so PROUD of you Mayuri – writing such a story takes guts, and you have penned it beautifully. Please keep expressing your creativity and remember that you have a fan in me. Warm hugs!!
Thanks so much,Mayura. I am glad we are friends. Hugs.
I wrote this story in 2006, but was reluctant to share it, for the fear of being judged. Stephen King is my writing Guru and this is my tribute to him.
As a student of Psychology, I totally believe that such relationships exist.
Also,this is a Mother-Son story, Yellow Yellow Dirty ‘Fellow’ 🙂
Such relationships do exist and you have gotten it out so beautifully.
Thank you, Prats.
Oh my, I read with bated breath. Now, this child reminded me a little of Edmund from Ratched.
It was heart wrenching to read this beautifully written story. If only the boy had been given a little love from his mother, how different he would have turned out to be. If only..
Thank you, Leha! I am so happy that you understood what I wanted to convey!
Well, Mayuri, I want to speak a lot but I can’t. You know why. My voice is choked. Such a heart touching story. Lots of questions. Nobody to answer. A story that we need to read and re-read, again and again. Really, lost my words to express how I am feeling right now. Too good and just, beyond words. Love and hugs dear.
Swarnali, feedback like yours makes all the thoughts and the efforts put towards thinking of a story, then crafting it completely worth it. You have made me so happy. Thank you.
Parent wounds are Real buT it will be a while before society can accept this.
Powerful piece.
Parent wounds are real. But it will be a while before society accepts it.
Powerful piece.
True that, Sonia. Parents are always right is the biggest misconception we are living with.
Oh my God Mayuri.This was spine chilling.Seamless storytelling and extraordinarily sad too.
Thanks, Amrita. Glad you felt the sadness too.
Very well elucidated, this is a complex equation, nobody speaks about this often here
Thank you, Pooja.
Again it proves that mental health matters . Being dominating in the name of discipline is something parents should avoid.
So true, Ghazala. Thank you for reading.
U have penned it so well Mayuri ,as yes it’s so true that the scars of our childhood remain until our adulthood and then we keep struggling with ourselves to change our way of looking at things or then otherwise if don’t realise this it wrong sadly the viscous cycle goes on
Thank you for reading, Dr Preeti.
Chilling to the bone Mayuri. I stopped reading Stephen King for this very reason
Thanks, Namz 🙂
Now that surely makes a hell of a Bollywood masala movie 🙂
Thank you, Chandresh 🙂
This read got me jitters Mayuri. I simply sat quietly for a few minutes to think over it. And yes, such relationships do exist. She was cruel to her son and later that was what he learned! Brilliant writing Mayuri, it is difficult to write on such topics.
Thanks a ton, Jhilmil
We create monsters! Only if people could learn to let love prevail over negativity.
Such horrific and heartwrenching story. I felt I was reading a Sidney Sheldon.
Beautifully written an ugly truth presumably prevailing in the world we live!
Thank you so much, Jyoti. This compliment means a lot!
A classic story about if only. Quite chilling and saddening to see the state. But nothing less than a movie story that keeps us glued. Amazingly written
Thank you, Afreen.
Such a lovely piece!
Thank you, Kiranmayi.
It certainly needs courage to write this. It sent a shudder down my spine. But I am sure all kinds of relationships exist & how childhood experiences Impacts adulthood.
Yes, they do, Aesha. We should consider ourselves lucky that we had regular childhoods.
This made me think. Childhood experience surely impact our relationships as an adult.
Childhood experiences lay the foundation to adulthood, is what I think, Charu.
Thats such a amazingly penned story… its extraordinary, simply par excellence
Thank you, Yogita.
That’s an exquisite dark piece. Brilliantly written.
Thank you,Sinjana.
Oh gosh! Had a lump in my throat and goosebumps.It takes guts to write such a story.
Yes it does 🙂 Thank you, Swiddle.
Wow. That was quite a hardhitting story.
Thank you,Sayali.
So so beautiful and painful too. Yes they exit but no body really want to accept it or talk about it. What even we are today is based on our childhood experience.
Thank you, Swati.
It’s chilling and heart breaking .. you’ve painted quite a picture dear. Loved it!
Thank you, Ranjini.
Woo.. that was spine chilling but somewhere a rude reality
This was chilling to the core. You must write more fiction, M!
Mayuri, I’m in AWE of the way you wrote this story! It’s an amazing story, written exactly the way you wanted the reader to go through the experience. And absolutely spot on about parenting wounds. In India, we still aren’t mentally prepared to talk about them and how they change kids. Thank you so much for writing!
Priyanka! I am dancing with joy as I read your response! Thanks so, so much!
Awesome and soul-stirring tale. With each line, the chill grew and my brain was framing what could have gone thru that mind who has lived life as a yellow dirty fellow. This is how unconscious memories hit you hard in later years. You have penned it really well.
So happy to read your comment, Pragun!
This story would remind everytime we read that a little love and acknowledgement is what children expect. These days children are so very brilliant that they can easily decipher what the parent thinks. Bringing up a toddler , I can really feel a lot of difference in the upbringing of me and my mother. Gentle parenting for the win. #tmmreads
True that, Sindhu. Thanks so much for reading!
OMG thats such a spine chilling story, amazing work Mayuri
Thank you, Gunjan.
This was so scary…The way you have narrated it… it’s brilliant…I didn’t wish to read yet I couldn’t leave it midway…so a great job there!!
I would like to say, Mission Accomplished, Ninu! Thanks so much!
This is a remarkable story, Mayuri. And very disturbing as it should be.
I have this unpopular opinion I don’t voice much, but parents have been cause of poor mental health in so many children around the world yet parenthood is looked at as divine and mental health of a child is hardly ever spoken about. I hope stories like this strike some actual conversations around this.
What amuses, and disturbs,me is how Parents are the 1st to take credit when their children do well. As soon as their children slip, it is always someone else to blame.
Parents should also be questioned, if not held accountable, for when children crack under the pressure they are put.
Thanks for reading, and sharing your thoughts,Samarpita.
Hard hitting and impactful. This is so relatable and at so many levels. Every childhood in our country suffers and bears the brunt of expectations of parents, society and what not. Liked the way you have told story. Keep the amazing work going.
#MyFriendAlexa #ContemplationOfaJoker #Jokerophilia
Thanks so much, Manas.
OMG….second post giving me goosebumps! First Mayura now u..both start with yellow! You girls need a Booker prize. I am serious! Amazed at your writing girl. You rock..So proud to be reading you. Yes, there are mothers like that and sons like that! But you really brought them to life. I felt every nail every arm being broken. It is out of this world. I could just go on and on.
Your comment has thrilled me to bits, Harjeet! Thank you so, so much!!
Hahaha i was thinking the same….
This post kept me hooked, a little dark but must read
Thank you, Arti!
you’ve depicted the love-hate relationship so well in a psychotic way. but I could feel literally everything… you should write thrillers.
Thank you, Richa. I hope to.
After reading this , I hope to be a great mom one day as each moment makes a mark in child’s memory.
This is the best compliment I have recieved for this story and for my writing. Thank you, Sonam.
Gosh, I don’t even know how to react to this. A mother raised her daughter in the most unimaginable way possible and scarred her for life! I don’t have the stomach for horror stories and haven’t read any. It reminds me of a movie though, can’t recollect the name right now.
Yes, it is a bit gory for some. Also, it is a story of a Mother and Son, as the title clearly depicts 🙂
Beautifully brought out …yes there are twisted parent child relationships ..and somehow the concept parent is always right is too twisted .
I so agree with you, Ruchi. Thanks for reading.
This is a literary version of a horror movie on a Netflix. A bit of a psycho there. I could feel the heebie-jeebies while reading it.
Hahahaha! I wrote this in 2006. See how far sighted I was!:)
You took me to my school days when I sprouts in a small jar by stuffing it with cotton and moong. And built up after to teach the real value of patience is simply amazing.
Thank you, Paresh .
Honestly, I wanted to walk away half the way from the story. It was too much for me. But, such incidents do takes place, so much of cruelty among families do exists, that is something no one can deny. Love is important to both kids and adults… Heart wrenching story…
I completely understand, Nazish. It is not for the faint hearted. Thanks for reading and understanding it though.
never read each line of a story as I read this story penned by you, heart-touching and very well written..
Thank you, Shrikanth.
My heart is still.pounding hard, Mayuri you held the attention in each word. Very well crafted.
Thank you, Sonal.
This story gave me goosebumps! I got reminded of Voldermort’s childhood. I usually love to read psycho thriller genre of books but seriously this gave me the chills..
Thank you, Ginia.
This is such a heart touching story and I really liked the way you have shared the relationship!!
Thank you, Ruchi.
This was disturbing to read. Beautifully penned. Parental abuse in the name of discipline can be extremely damaging. They end up creating monsters.
Thank you, Ritu.
OMG Mayuri! this is a brilliant story and I am so glad you are writing fiction. I always believed that you are too good at it. Please write more and I wish you publish a book someday. It will surely be a bestseller I am sure I told you before too and I am saying it again, YOU SHOULD WRITE MORE FICTION!
Thanks so much, Deepa
Wooow, just wooow! Excellent read
Thank you:)
Wow, what a chilling narrative. Well done, Mayuri, you have so accurately rendered the deep scars that bad parenting can cause in a child’s mind and life.
Thank you so much for reading, Mathangi.
I almost fainted Mayuri. Hats off to write such strong story. What shall I say..omg!
Apologies for scaring you, Upasna!:)
Holy mother of God! I never knew you wrote sooooooooooooo well! I mean, oh dear Lord! This was so creepy that I was reading it with bated breath. You should compile all these (and more!) into a book, Mayuri. Please do. I will be the first one to read it.
The story is creepy because it speaks volumes about the importance of mental health.
Thank you, Shalini ❤️
I’m not a parent but this made me go through a journey, an in depth journey of relationships.
You know your story reminded me of the movie ‘Joker’! Mental health does matter and this is beautifully illustrated in powerful words. Good one!!
Thank you, Aditi.
Gosh, sadly I know that kids become horrible because parents are either too strict and rude or neglecting them or too liberal. It is sad that not everyone thinks like some of us – parenting is a job that needs to be done right and handled with utmost care.
So agree with you, Cindy. It is a vicious cycle.
Omg it was such a creepy story… You write so so well…I’m still getting the shivers! Frankly, I thought of leaving the story midway! Maybe too much for me to handle… Keep on writing more
Thank you for reading, Haimanti.
Parent-child relationships are complex and every child wants love from the parent. Having a disturbed relationship can lead to such problems. Well penned
OMG, you kept me hooked till the end. I was expecting a change of heart but no. I know such debilitating relationships in the guise of ‘strict’ parents are the most toxic thing that can happen to a child. Children mostly reflect what is being inflicted on them. Reading this was quite painful & I guess, you win there bringing out the precious takeaway.
Most of the serial killers have been victims of domestic violence & cruelty themselves.
I’m speechless at your story-telling, Mayuri.
Thanks so much, Ashvini. Yes, abuse and abusers are a vicious circle.
I think the underlying theme to this story was child abuse begets psychotic individuals. Well written.
Thank you, Lavanya.
This is so true, yet very few speak about it. Not all childhood memories are sweet and lovely. This was a hard-hitting one and you have written it beautifully.
Thank you, Rashi.