“You rascal, you’d better give me a plastic bag to put inside this garbage basket,” Ganga said this morning, barking her order to Vinayagam. “You gave me the runaround yesterday. You went off without doing it, see?” Vinayagam rushed about the house to get some plastic bags for her use, muttering an insult or two under his breath. At 52, I couldn’t make out what exactly he said but 67-year-old Ganga didn’t miss the color and sparkle of his curses. “Aeiii, I heard that!” she snapped to the young man. “Remember, you have two wives. One back at your home and one here in this house and I won’t let you go.” I suspect that when the late Daddykins’ sisters, The Three Roses, stayed with us for two weeks after Daddykins flew away, they were on tenterhooks for one reason alone. They feared the wrath of clean-freak Ganga, Daddykins’ maid of the last two years. Her third eye packed more ferocity than Shiva’s. All I’ll say of Ganga is this, that she’d have cleaned up the ripple and rush of The Ganges and bottled it up as mountain spring Aquafina.
Posted on: Mon, 21 Jul 2014 05:34:00 +0000
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