Fiction logo

I made a mistake, Should've kept my lips sealed

What? It wasn't about cricket? SHIT 😳 Run!

By Maryam BatoolPublished 2 years ago • 5 min read

The day I was born, I realized I wasn’t exactly what my dad wanted. Why? Well, he wanted a girl, and instead… surprise! Here I was.

For a while, I was my mom’s favorite. Life was good. Those were the best days—short, but amazing. Then my little brother showed up.

Why? Honestly, we didn’t need him. He didn’t do anything useful—just came along and completely messed up my comfy, peaceful life. Can you believe that?

In my book, he’s pretty much useless. Totally useless. Well… unless one day I bribe him to save me from Dad.

Life’s kinda funny these days.

Oh, forgot to introduce myself;

Hi, my name is --------

Wait, let’s keep that a secret for now. 😉

Anyway, Cricket has always been my first and only love. But there’s someone I love even more than Cricket—my mom.

You’d never find anyone more supportive in my life than my Mom. She loves me more than everyone! More than my little brother (though I can’t swear on that one).

[Clears throat in irony] 😬😅

Forget it, let’s not talk about my little troublesome brother. Instead, let’s hear a small part of my everyday routine of getting love from my mother.

Her name’s Sunita.

Yesterday, it started like this:

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sensu!........”

“Sensu!........”

I could hear Mom calling me, but I was busy hiding my Math test results.

“If you make me call you one more time, I’ll come break your legs with your own cricket bat!”

“Mom! I have a tournament tomorrow! No need to do that. Instead, why don’t you break Manish’s legs? He does nothing but stay in bed all day.”

Oops. I really shouldn’t have said that. Bad-mouthing my little prick brother? My mom could kill me for that. Thank God I’m still alive. But only because of my Dadi (Grandma).

“Sunita, why do you keep teasing my little baby? He’s such a sweet boy. He does everything you ask him to. Stop scolding him all the time.”

Dadi to the rescue.

“Maa! You have no idea what this innocent boy of yours did!” My mom was blazing like the sun.

“Kiran! Baby, come on. Tell your Dadi what happened.”

Dadi called me in the softest tone possible. I still don’t know why she calls me Kiran when my middle name is Karan.

“Dadi, it’s nothing. Mom just always wants to scold me and forgive that little devil who’s behind every mischief!” I tried to play the victim card.

“Don’t you dare blame my prince for everything! Your little brother is such a nice boy,” Mom fired back.

Then, as if reading a checklist, she started:

“Manish is great at studies, great at chores, great at almost everything. What are you great at? Tell me one thing and I’ll let you go!”

Now, Mom had challenged my ego. She’d basically called me a loser! I couldn’t back down.

“Well… Cricket!” 😏

“Ha! You don’t know, Sunita. My son could beat Virat Kohli! He looks so good when he stomps the bat like a champion.”

Dadi jumped in, adding weight to my side of the argument.

“Sunita, have you ever seen him hit the ball? When he scores a sixer! Kiran, how many did you score last time? Did you beat that proud friend of yours… what was his name?”

“Ah, Ishaan… did you beat the shit out of him?”

Dadi was leaving no room for Mom’s anger to spill over. But no one can beat Mom’s rage.

“Maa, stop it already! This is all your fault. You’ve completely spoiled this little devil! And please, don’t interfere when I’m talking to my son!”

Mom started to overtake my sweet Dadi.

“What? You’re going to teach me how to raise him now? He’s my son—I’ve raised him! Don’t even think about saying something like that again!”

Sometimes, my Dadi is so much of a Drama. lol

“Maa, enough with the emotional blackmail!”

“You! Come here, right in front of me! If you so much as try to act smart, I swear I’ll… well, you know the drill!”

I could see I was about to get grounded. I had no option but to plead.

“Mom! Please, listen to me for once! This time, I didn’t do anything! Why do you always act like I’ve committed some capital crime?”

“Fine, explain yourself! But if it’s your fault—let me warn you—I’ve already decided your punishment: no phone and no cricket for a whole week!”

“Mom! Why do you always drag my phone and cricket into every argument?”

“Quiet! Start talking, and no excuses! Or else I'll delete your Vocal account”

Mom will be Mom.

“Alright, listen. Yesterday, when I was heading to the tournament with my friends, your precious little angel started bawling like a two-year-old, begging me to take him along. So, I did what any responsible elder brother would do—I took him. But the moment we got there, he turned the match into a living nightmare. All my friends were glaring at me like they were ready to strangle me.

“To make it worse, your little angel just casually threw stones at the wickets while we were in the middle of a match.

“Maa, can you imagine? My friends were furious! And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Manish snatched the bat from Ishaan mid-game. And you know how Manish is—he doesn’t even know how to hold a bat properly!

“But when Ishaan bowled to him, what did your little son do? He hit the ball so hard, it shattered Aunt Meghana’s brand-new window! You know, the one she’s been bragging about all week? Apparently, it’s an exact replica of Ambani’s bedroom window design!”

“WHAT?”

Mom’s jaw dropped. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Exactly! And guess what? Aunt Meghana wants 10,000 rupees for that window.”

Manish butted in, playing the victim as usual.

“It’s not my fault, Mom! Ishaan bowled the ball so fast—he practically attacked me with it!”

For a moment, Mom was dead silent. Her lips twitched, her eyes darting between me and Manish. And then, she muttered that one word—the one that sent chills down my spine.

“Sensu!!!”

But this time, her tone wasn’t angry—it was shocked. Like the kind of shock that hits when you’re already furious about one thing and then someone casually drops another bomb.

“Wait, wait, wait. So you’re telling me you failed your Maths test and now there’s a 10,000-rupee window to fix?!”

“Mom, listen, it wasn’t—”

“No, no, no, Sensu! Don’t even try. First, you fail Maths, and now this? You’ve officially lost your mind!”

Next step was obvious one. Mom motioned to Manish.

And the next thing I knew, he handed her a slipper.

And then, the fire returned. Mom grabbed her slipper like she was ready to end my career. Forget the paneer for dinner—tonight, I was the one on the menu!

Stop running, Sensu!

.

.

And yes, My name.....

I'm Sk Parihar. Someone calls me brother.

.

Author's note:

I always like to try different things. No matter if it's poetry, cooking, art, or any other daily task. I mean, why should we make life boring?

It's a fictional story; So don't get offended, brother. lol

I'd love to create stories on other creators too.

If you wanna save Sk from her mother's slipper; Go follow him and send him condolences, 'cause you can't really save him, right? 😂

familyAdventureFan FictionHumorFantasyShort StoryFable

About the Creator

Maryam Batool

Life already feels like 28!

I write what I believe in

Life's HARD, trust me! I'm already a little tired. But, I gotta live anyway!

Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment
    Written by Maryam Batool