Kunal tries to intervene. He walks up and says, ‘Sir, can we please move towards—’
‘Madarchod!’ he bellows at Kunal. ‘You will tell me where to move!Hain? You will tell me?’
He starts to charge at Kunal, but I come up and stand between the two of them. ‘Papa,’ I say, pushing him back slightly. ‘This is between us. Just go home. I’m warning you.’
‘Between us? This is between all you people and me!’ he says, gesturing wildly at the crowd.
‘No one’s interested in what you have to say,’ I tell him even as I fight all the memories flooding back to me. All those times when we had those screaming matches where he would remind me of all the fucking sacrifices he made for me. How I used to acknowledge his dumb arguments.
‘Papa, please—’ Shilpi whimpers.
He ignores everyone and starts wildly pointing at the girls. ‘All your parents know that you are here?! Looking for sex!’
‘PAPA. ENOUGH,’ I shout.
He turns to look at me and locks my gaze. Then he digs his finger into my chest. ‘And you! Pimping out your sixteen-year-old sister!’
‘Papa, please stop,’ Shilpi cries, trying to shrink away.
‘You heard her,’ I say, anger bursting through my veins. Only he, only he can use this language for Shilpi. And he dares to project righteousness. This asshole. What a uniquely sad thing. To so easily think of abuses for your father.
‘Stop? I haven’t even started!’
He tries to move towards Shilpi, but I push him back harder this time.
‘You will touch me?’ he asks, his voice incredulous.
I stride towards him, barely anything separating us. ‘If you say anything else, I will lay you flat out. Don’t push my boundaries.’
He stares me down. He knows I will do it. I wish he pushes me, pushes me enough so I can do it and put the final fucking nail in this farce of a father–son relationship. ‘Of course, you will hit me, behenchod. Because you have gone crazy,’ he grumbles.
‘Has there ever been a more shameless man than you?’ I spit on the ground. ‘That’s what you are. You, your wife... your entire fucking family is worthless. A blot.’
It ticks him off. I love it. I enjoy every fucking bit of it.
‘You have gone crazy! Behind all these women!’ Then he points at Aditi. ‘Especially this one. This is the kind of life she teaches you! Look at these people!’ He turns to point at a girl in a skirt that ends just above her knee and roars, ‘Half-naked, drinking, looking for someone to take home for the night! No values, no shame, just... lust!’
‘Sir, please, let’s take this outside,’ Kunal says, trying again, his voice firm but calm.
There are people with their phones out now, recording. It’s even better. I imagine him watching these videos on his WhatsApp group and then hanging himself from a ceiling. But I hope he convinces my mother to do the same because who wants to deal with that? She’s an equal opportunities villainess in this. I remember her upturned nose every time I talked about Megha—the jokes she and Maasi cracked, the memes she sent despite being technologically illiterate. Fuck them.
‘And who are you?’ my father spits, jabbing a finger at Kunal. ‘Dallesaale? Is that what you are? A pimp for all these sluts? Is that what your mom taught you to do?’
Sluts.
Ah!
Again the same word he used for Megha. The same word he used to try and break us. A white-hot rage washes over me. The noise of the crowd, the flashing phones, the music from the bar—it all fades away.
‘You talk about values?’ I say, my voice dangerously quiet. ‘You? Saale, if I start telling people what you do, how you and your brother talk about women... fuck off, Harish.’
‘Saale, you will take my name?’ he yells.
‘No, I will not take your name. I will call you what you are.’
‘WHO AM I?’ he shouts.
‘Chutiya hai saale tu. That’s what you fucking are.Chutiya. Sun raha hai, Harish? Write it down, get it tattooed on your face because that’s what you are.’
