"Life is the price we pay for running away from death "
































































I reposed in my armchair, and peeking above the rim of the newspaper I fixed my steely gaze upon the young lad who lay so heedlessly and arrogantly upon my couch. His mother - my wife - had beckoned him a dozen times to have his dinner, and look at him! lying there in utter disrespect.

Yes! that boy was my son, my useless son that I was growing to be ashamed of with every passing day.

Children today have become so vainglorious that leave alone acknowledging the support that their parents provide, they assume such an air of privilege for themselves that giving parents a chance to serve them is like a favour they do upon the parents. My son definitely had that air about him - his mother's pampered child that he was - but I had more than that reason to be upset with him.
 
Look at him, canoodling with his phone all the time and with that wry smile on his face. I know he is chatting with that useless girlfriend of his. How dare he ignore his mother for that girl? How dare he belittle the value of my angel? Doesn't the boy have any inkling of how priceless is my wife's attention? I waged a war for the better part of my life to earn that very same attention. 
 
How many years have I fought to gain her trust and love, what does he know about that? He should actually thank me for having begotten him such a pretty mother. But this dud, this insensitive ape, is busy yapping away his time over some useless female. Oh man, there were so many admirers of my wife during our college days, and so many boys that I had to race to win her. How I used so many ways and means to get to her: love letters, greeting cards, pink teddy-bears holding 'love you' pillows, parties, movies, bike rides to her home, and then night long studies so I can be ready to clear all her doubts the next day. I wouldn't let any other guy take advantage of her, I supplanted myself in every avenue of her life and then, only then, after years of dedicated attempts, that she managed to soften up to me. What does this today's smartphone generation boy know about the value of my hard-fought love?
 
See! His mother called him again, and he again ignored her. Now, she will come out and start begging him to eat his food. What a lucky bastard! Just look at the fool, unaware of his mother's pleads and staring so intently at his phone all day.

He reminds me of my father who used to stare at me from behind his newspaper all day! Like grand-father, like grand-son.


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