He sat on the floor, unmoving, droopy eyed, droopy faced. There was no one at home. The calmness disturbed him. But it wasn’t new to him, the loneliness. He couldn’t even watch TV, because he wasn’t able to reach it. If only he had some company, but no, even that was getting unbearable these days.

“That’s it,” he told himself. “I am going to have to speak to Jay about this. This won’t do. I don’t deserve to be treated like this,” he said with a new found courage.

He passed time by reminiscing about his youth. People admired him and looked at him with awe. That was then and this is now, when people are taking him for granted. Just then, he heard a click at the door and although he couldn’t see who it was, he could sense that it was Jay’s two impish kids, lucky and Rita. He hated them the most. He had adored them when they were kids and just learning to crawl, but now they were too much for his old bones.

“How they get all over me? Hasn’t their mother taught them any manners at all? They don’t even wash themselves and jump on me with all that grime and sweat, yuck. Oh-oh, here they come. Oh lord!”

“Now, now kids, come on. Get off me. I am too tired and old to play with you. Jay where are you? Leave me alone,” he pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

He heard the click of the door again and the kids dashed off to their room, chuckling. Two tired pair of legs dragged themselves across the room with a heavy bag of vegetables. An old man huffed and puffed and made his way towards him.  

“Oh come on, cut me some slack,” he said. “Not grandpa of all the people. He stinks like rotten tomatoes. Give me strength oh lord,” he prayed looking skyward. He held his breath as grandpa made himself comfortable and there it was; the first of them. An unhurried, soundless, inconspicuous fart. He tried not to breathe, because he knew if he did, he would be history. He tried till the point where he could no longer hold it inside and had to let go of the last ounce of oxygen, but just as he was about to, the doorbell rang and grandpa got up, eventually, but not before casting a long, hopeful eye towards the kid’s room, expecting them to volunteer, but then opened the door himself. The sharp, overpowering, unpleasant smell still lingered in the air like Chinese people’s breath.

It was Jay. The moment he came in, “Aah! So someone shows up at last. Where the hell have you been,” he questioned Jay accusingly. Jay rubbed his temples and was about to sit when, “No, no, no! Before you sit down, we need to talk.”

“Okay,” Jay said, amused. “What is it about?”

“It’s about everything. Everybody in this house is just so...just so…mean. Nobody cares about me. Your kids. They are a royal pain in the ass. They are so ill-mannered. They don’t let me rest at all and the way they treat me, god, it is disgusting. They just walk all over me with their shoes mind you. Shoes! God only knows where they have been and then they don’t bother to clean themselves up either.”

“Hmm. Ok, calm down, I will tell them to behave from tomorrow. Alright? Now can I please relax for a bit? I’ve had a long, tiring day.”                

“NO! What about my day? I am not done yet. Your father. What does he eat?”

“Well, he eats light. He is into salads, and bread etc I guess. Why?”

“Why? The way he shoots one fart after the other, I can swear on my mother that he does eat some shit. He is obnoxious. I have to hold my breath Jay. I don’t know how long I will be able to do that. I am not young anymore and you should realize that. What if I have a heart attack or something? And he smells like a dead lizard on top of that. Does he ever take a bath? Like using soap and water for a change. Man! You guys are weird. I should have listened to my dad,” he said, his puffy face a deep red. 

“Yeah I know he does have a little problem. I will see to it that he eats the right stuff and also make sure that he takes a bath, at least twice a week. So if it is all sorted out then…,” Jay said, looking at him with optimism.

“You wish. Your wife. She is another major cranky piece. She watches TV all afternoon. And it’s not a movie or something, but some pathetic sitcoms, where the characters do nothing but dress up and cry and bitch and fight. And your wife cries with them, bitches with them. I am telling you she is crazy. Get rid of her. Or she will watch some stupid cookery show. What’s the point of that? You can’t taste the food, touch it, or feel it. And they go like, ‘Hmm…this is so delicious.’ Delicious my ass, who the heck knows. And I have been here since ages and I have never seen her cook anything,” he said with a stinging satire in his voice.

“Dude, chill. Relax. Breathe. Everything will be fine,” Jay said like, demonstrating how to inhale and exhale like a Yoga guru.  
 
“Ah huh! Let’s talk about you Mr. Empathizer,” he said, leaning slightly forward.

“What did I do?” Jay said defensively.

“What did you do? Have you ever, EVER considered my feelings when you sit, only wearing your red underwear watching TV? The sight of your gross, hair ridden, sweating, reeking body is a nightmare. You look like a bear.”

Jay lifted his forearm and on the pretext of wiping his cleft forehead, sniffed his underarms. “Don’t you think you are being a little rude? And by the way that’s my lucky underwear. The Jets win their game if I wear it.”

“That is the most juvenile thing I have ever heard in my life Jay. And you want to know what is rude? I will tell you what is rude. Your kids watch cartoons, I watch with them, no matter how completely senseless they are. Your father watches BBC, I watch it with him, no matter how terribly boring it is. Your wife watches those ridiculous sitcoms and cookery shows, I watch it with her. I don’t complain. You! You watch all those stupid football and wrestling games, and don’t I give you company? Has anyone of you turned around and asked me, what would I like to watch? NO! Nobody is concerned. When you sit with your crate of beer and burp like an uncultured nincompoop, have you even once offered me a sip? You promised that you will take care of me and that’s the only reason why I left my parents and the comforts of my home. I wanted to make it on my own, but you have disappointed me Jay. Tuk, tuk!” he said, clicking his tongue and shaking his head dejectedly.

“Oh stop it already. Aren’t you overreacting a little for a couch?”

“Just a couch? I left my showroom, I left the nice, French couple who seemed so happy when they had come to see me, and I left my family. All for you! And now I am JUST a couch? Great! Thanks Jay. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, hey, look at me. I am sorry alright? I just said it. You know we all love you. You know we can’t do without you. Right? I promise to take better care of you from now on. We are family. Come on, now smile for me, come on, come on,” he said in a sing-song manner and teased a smile out of him.

“That’s my boy. Here, grab a beer, cheers!” Jay said, relieved.

“Cheers,” he said, a broad smile illuminating his leathery face.