Posted:
Saumya, Saumya, Saumya, why did you leave me for that two-bit third-rate nothing, I miss you so much. If you were here, That Girl would have been out of our lives. You would be my grandson's wife, whether or not the weakling wanted that, and I would see your fair and lovely face all day, every day.
But here I am, stuck with this bitch girl who stole my safe, yes, she STOLE MY SAFE, and did Yuvraj slap her? shout at her? throw her out of my house? Nooo, the namby pamby let me hand her the keys to my kingdom--house. I want to see Ms. Smarty Pants fail spectacularly. I want to taunt her, deride her, hurt her, tell her to die--okay, calm down, Chandrakala, can't SAY that--I want to slap her, push her down and make her leave for good.
She's a bad penny. I was so happy when she left, crying to make my Yuvraj feel sorry for her and hold her back, If I could, I'd have laughed and danced a jig. I was planning a celebration party, but before I could say the words, this useless Pratima brought her back, "to solve our problems". Why, why, why? Who's she, Kiran Bajaj? If I could, I'd have cried. And Yuvraj won't stay my favourite long if he behaves like this. He's only supposed to be weak about ME, not over any phateechar girl or his stupid, useless mother.
After I threw out her bags with great flair and no little physical effort, he asked for them to be shifted to his room. His room! How dare he! Thankfully, That Girl got into one of her saintly snits and decided to stay with Pratima. They are made for each other, just like my Saumya and I.
Everyone lets me down--Sexena (Freudian slip!), Saumya (Somu, Somu, Somu!!!), Yuvraj, Saurabh, Anuj. At least Saurabh and Anuj married girls to my taste, though they are useless twits too; but fair, good-looking, especially Regs. Yuvraj married That Girl, thanks to his mental mother. Bad enough, he's not even dumping her.
I hate That Girl making my grandsons work. What if they succeed? No, they won't, they can't. I will make sure they get nowhere, and I will rule again. I hate her calling me 'dadi'--she should call me 'Madam' or 'Madamji'. This Yuvraj should support me, and I'll put the snotty little nonentity in her proper place.
I hate being obligated to That Girl's blackmailing father. Coming here to rescue my company with his pathetic house and piddling job. They aren't fit to lick my slippers. I hate That Boy, that Pratima's nephew, joining my grandsons in our business. Paying our electricity bill! ! He must've stolen the money; after all he and That Girl are birds of a feather. Low-class nobodies living off us aristocrats. Just let me get my company back, and I'll put them all in their place, preferably do gazz zameen ke neeche.
But here I am, stuck with this bitch girl who stole my safe, yes, she STOLE MY SAFE, and did Yuvraj slap her? shout at her? throw her out of my house? Nooo, the namby pamby let me hand her the keys to my kingdom--house. I want to see Ms. Smarty Pants fail spectacularly. I want to taunt her, deride her, hurt her, tell her to die--okay, calm down, Chandrakala, can't SAY that--I want to slap her, push her down and make her leave for good.
She's a bad penny. I was so happy when she left, crying to make my Yuvraj feel sorry for her and hold her back, If I could, I'd have laughed and danced a jig. I was planning a celebration party, but before I could say the words, this useless Pratima brought her back, "to solve our problems". Why, why, why? Who's she, Kiran Bajaj? If I could, I'd have cried. And Yuvraj won't stay my favourite long if he behaves like this. He's only supposed to be weak about ME, not over any phateechar girl or his stupid, useless mother.
After I threw out her bags with great flair and no little physical effort, he asked for them to be shifted to his room. His room! How dare he! Thankfully, That Girl got into one of her saintly snits and decided to stay with Pratima. They are made for each other, just like my Saumya and I.
Everyone lets me down--Sexena (Freudian slip!), Saumya (Somu, Somu, Somu!!!), Yuvraj, Saurabh, Anuj. At least Saurabh and Anuj married girls to my taste, though they are useless twits too; but fair, good-looking, especially Regs. Yuvraj married That Girl, thanks to his mental mother. Bad enough, he's not even dumping her.
I hate That Girl making my grandsons work. What if they succeed? No, they won't, they can't. I will make sure they get nowhere, and I will rule again. I hate her calling me 'dadi'--she should call me 'Madam' or 'Madamji'. This Yuvraj should support me, and I'll put the snotty little nonentity in her proper place.
I hate being obligated to That Girl's blackmailing father. Coming here to rescue my company with his pathetic house and piddling job. They aren't fit to lick my slippers. I hate That Boy, that Pratima's nephew, joining my grandsons in our business. Paying our electricity bill! ! He must've stolen the money; after all he and That Girl are birds of a feather. Low-class nobodies living off us aristocrats. Just let me get my company back, and I'll put them all in their place, preferably do gazz zameen ke neeche.
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