Confessions of a Failed Fratricide-2

Part-2
My brother, let him be blessed forever, in honour of my esteemed late father and my beloved late mother–
Yes, it is not that he came one day and ate sorbet and left. But on the other hand, he has come intending to live with me in perpetuity. This was probably the occasion for my second whack at murder-
He was, by all means, a cherub and grinned at the yardman like a lad unlike me who nagged him all the time for his inefficiency. He spoke only the truth which disconcerted me a lot.
When I defaulted in my credit card instalment for the third consecutive time, the executive looked into the extra bedchamber and asked me harshly, Is your elder kinsman at home-
Of course, he is, I said not apprehending the compatriot’s vulpine purports.
I beckoned my brother aloud- Brother Cherabeque -will you please appear from the cloister-Don’t think this was in a way deriding at him, on the other hand, it was fitting deference to his original stature, which was unknown to others or even to himself-
We greet each other courteously at the ball and in front of strangers. And brother enters not concealing a yawn.
The official turned to my sibling, and asked in an overtly deferential tone, When will this gentleman[myself ] clear the credit card overdue, he gives bogus scrapers-
And now the splurge was more burlesque than real.
Apprises brother-See my younger one did not get payroll in the past two months because he insulted a female colleague.
Again after a caesura- However, the case is withdrawn and he will get the salary in the coming month and he will repay you on March third by all means-
In case he did not pay- oppugns the executive. In that matter, I will disburse from my pocket, my brother declares assuredly.
My sibling’s gaze was so stern that it quashed the other and he made a headlong exit. And while leaving, as an aside he said in a faint timbre-
I knew your blood brother will speak the truth and fled for his bike with a surreptitious wink.
This was like a dual affront to me, and I ached to kill him instantly and was rummaging for the overlap of dhoti. But the blade was in the other cummerbund my wife gave for laundry yesterday. Where is my hatchet, I yelled from a Jacobean drama. This hoary grunt that devours breakfast and dinner at my table is more trustworthy than the V.P. of a huge corporation- I want revenge. My hysterical cries with snuffles and heaves roused the landscaper from midday slumber. Blanch and panic-stricken he presented at the porch. Remus meanwhile pulled back to the inward chamber with a Mona Lisa simper…

-[To continue]

Published by azuremorn

Writer, traveler. Lives in India.

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