June’ 2002, Monday – 08:00 Hrs,
Midtown, Manhattan Borough (NY City), NY.
Aryan arrived in the morning at his hometown airport. Rekha, Aryan’s mama had been waiting at the airport for more than half hour hankering for meeting Aryan.
“Hey, mama!” he voiced out and clasped by taking her into his arms. He found her shedding tears as the palm of her hand touched his countenance at a slow trot. “Oh, mum! Please, I am back, come on”, Aryan pepped up dabbing her eyes with his hankie.
They walked down towards the car in the parking lot, “Where is dad?” Aryan asked as he gazed at inside of the car catching sight of no one else expect the chauffeur.
“He hasn’t come, he is busy with…”
“With what? Slugging?” Aryan said in haste, much to his chagrin, expressing his discontentment apropos to his father for not making it even so after coon’s age.
“Aryan, you might want to pull yourself out of the cogitation. He is busy, story end” Rekha said apprising Aryan implicitly to put an end to the moot.
“Okay! I don’t want to trouble you. Let’s scoot off to home. I am famished, it’s been months since I had homemade food” he said hopping in the Rolls Royce.
Rekha pulled out a baggage from the rear shelf and posited on the rear seat tray table. Presto! She unstowed the bag lunch and uttered, “Aryan, here, Sautéed Chicken with sweet potatoes & pears and the stroganoff chicken”
Flabbergasted Aryan voiced out, “Mama, are you kidding me?” he paused, “It suddenly is appetizing” he said.
“It’s more than an hour drive from the airport, you would feel hungry by the time we reach home” Rekha made it plain.
“Absolutely delicious! Mama I love you and I am so lucky to have you as my mother. You have attained the candid expertise in cooking different cuisines. Lots of kisses” Aryan mumbled with glob of chicken in his bazoo.
“That’s not all dear” she made him hold onto another surprise, “the satay chicken stir-fry with snow peas, your preferred recipe above all”
“You know what Mama,” he said momentarily, “I am gonna add on weight this summer.”
By the time he finished the brunch they reached home. The home is the only place on earth which never showed a sign of change. Aryan said to himself.
Dayanand, a millionaire, gramps of Aryan. He built a palatial edifice outspread over nigh of thirty-thousand sq. Feet in area. The entrance gate was twelve foot tall, full of iron weighing a bigger number tons, well equipped with surveillance cameras. The guards were in a livery, clasped with a logo on the raiment, exclusively suggesting to the public about the millionaire residence. As one ingress for few meters down the entryway, the alley cuts right opening on to a vestibule with a double passageway for high end security check. A few more meter walk down the track to the left will lead one towards the foyer. To the right, one will find the sods, different kinds and sizes of fountains were set-up in the midst of sward on either side of the pathway evincing a route to the parking lot. The property produces its own wine in the backyard, for the guests to meander all over the garth, it would take two long days. The entrance of the house had a thirty-foot tall entry hall, intricately carved ceilings, everything looks affluent right from the exotic hardwood flooring in the front room to the goblet pleat curtains billowing like mist on the wall of the floor. The furnishing of the interior was vividly an urban modern pull up composed of integral elements from wide range of Ethnic heirlooms, shabby chic décor, Scandinavian décor and glamorous chic décor. Portion of interior design had hand carved wormilesanship in addition to antique furniture’s including davenport desk, drop-leaf table. There were in total fifteen bedrooms, wrap-around balcony, an atrium, a home theater well-nigh spaciously accommodating forty people, a family room with another terrace, wine cellar, three projection rooms and an art disco night club. The house also had six thousand sq. Feet allocated to the playing zone, it has tennis courts, billiard board, swimming pools; each room has its own beauty timely melting into the other room. Despite having such a mansion, Aryan left the city for various reasons from his mom end.
Aryan loved Nemo, his grandpop sobriquet, all through his heart as much as he loved his mother. The first thing he always did after arriving at home was to rush up to his room soon after hopping off the car.
“Mama, where is Nemo?” Aryan asked looking arrantly nonplussed after ceasing his search in the abode.
“Nemo has an appointment today for the weekly health check, he might have gone to the infirmary”
“What happened to Nemo lately? Why a check-up?” He asked with an oblivious thought.
“Nothing darling, he is fine. Go get some sleep, you are already tired”
“We do have a family doctor but why Nemo has to go,”
“Son, you can buy the time of a doctor, but not all the equipment in the hospital, it is useless” she responded.
Unbriefed about the actual problem, Aryan nonchalantly said “okay, just wake me up after Nemo’s arrival, don’t hesitate”
“Okay, get some sleep” Rekha responded.
He left to his bedchamber in the sixth floor. He turned on his mobile phone from the flight mode.
Oh gosh! Aryan puffed out. My bad that I missed out.
“You don’t answer my call when I needed you the most” one of those several messages said. “Sorry dear, I have just reached my home, going for some sleep, will talk to you sometime later, don’t mind.” He replied and he doze off.
Power and Pelf 