A Call From My Sister

It was 8.30 in the morning and I was barely awake when the phone rang. My sister’s number was on the screen.

“Morning.” I croaked into the phone.

“Bhai, I just got a one hour lecture from papa.” She said.
 
“What happened now?”

“He was angry that you don’t wear good clothes.”

Jesus Christ.

“This time when you visited, you were wearing a dirty shirt and jeans with the type of shoes that he hates.”

“I wear such clothes to piss him off.” This is not what I said.
 
“I changed three buses to get home. There was dust and dirt in those buses, the clothes I wore from home were clean, but they got dirty in the journey.” I made the excuse.

“Yeah, but he won’t hear none of it.”

“Alright, I’ll wear good clothes from now on.”

“And he was also complaining about the four previous visits home when you wore shitty clothes.”

“Take me shopping when we meet next. You know I can’t shop clothes for myself. I end up picking all blue or grey t-shirts.”

“Yeah, we must go shopping when we meet next.”

“And tell dad that he is going to sponsor all the shopping. I am not paying a rupee for my clothes from my pay.”

“I’ll tell him,” she said.

We said bye and cut the call. I got up from my bed and looked for clothes to wear to office. First, I ironed a t-shirt, then I picked a shirt that had been hanging behind a door for quite some time and pressed that.

Then I thought about buying a tie. And black shoes.