"I hate her the most when I can't find anything specific to hate her for," he said, eyes blazing in anger and fists clenched with tension.
Earlier in the day, he had come home sullen and had refused to carry on a decent conversation with anyone. It had taken Anita a little bit of coaxing, and a lot of patience to get him talking. Finally he relented, but not without an outburst.
"You have no idea what a sly person she is. Her eyes are so sly, every time she looks at anyone, it is always as if she is trying to use them," he started.
Anita tried to reason with him saying, "But isn't it unfair to judge someone based on their looks or eyes? She might actually be a genuinely nice person."
Before she could continue, he interjected impatiently saying "No, no. She always takes help from us to get her work done, but when we go to her for anything, she never helps out. And, she is so loud you know. As if she wants everyone to know that she is the only hard working person in the room."
He had been talking without a breath and now, when there was a brief pause, Anita tried again. "But, sweetie, don't you think you are taking it too much to your head? I mean, it is as if you want to get angry even over the way she walks and the way she sits."
His eyes brightened on hearing that. "That is what even am trying to say. Sometimes, when she doesn't come at all, I am not able to find a reason to be angry with her, and that is when I hate her the most."
Anita sighed, looking at the clock. It was about to strike 8, and all she wanted to do was go home and crib to her husband about the maid who was driving her nuts with her incessant rendition of "Munni badnaam hui." And, here she was, still struck with 12 year old Akash, waiting for his parents to return, listening to his classroom woes and cursing her baby-sitter job.