Tantrums

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda


“5...4…3...2…1” she muttered under her breath. She had been counting down from 10, like she had been taught to do in situations where her temper-a notorious one at that, was in danger of forcing itself free from her control. Her eyes were red, almost moist as if holding back angry tears. But cry she won’t. Not here, not before everyone. Not before HER at least.

He was holding it out to HER. How could he?! He had promised it to her & now right before her eyes, something that rightfully belonged to her was being gifted most lovingly to this evil witch! Yes, she was pure evil. Behind those pretty dark eyes & sleek straight hair, lay a cruel cunning witch. How else can one explain him being so besotted by her? Why else would he be always praising her, forever following her, agreeing to each of her whims & fancies? What initially was her right, SHE had taken it all away in the blink of an eye. When earlier every evening he would be at her side, now he spent taking her out. When at nights he would kiss her goodnight, now he was too busy on the phone to remember to tuck her in.

SHE giggled as he held it out & watching the scene she broke down finally.




Clutching the ragged Barbie doll tightly in one hand, 5yrs old Neeta went running to where her brother & his friends sat, snatched the huge bar of Silk from his hands and ran away.



Comments

Anmol Rawat said…
A deeper meaning in a shorter piece. Nice job :)
PSR said…
lol. cute. I could absolutely relate to that one!!!

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