Sid writes his memoirs
I smiled at his predictability. Sid always wanted to look the part, whatever he tried. In any case, this would keep him from monopolizing the ipad with long hours playing Candy Crush, so it was definitely to be encouraged. I patted him, "Well, you better get to it then. Those memoirs aren't going to write themselves." He rose in a magnificent swoop, gathered his things and said, "I shall retire to the day parlour then, ensure no one disturbs me, peace and solitude is what I need right now" and with that he strode two steps away into our living room and arranged himself and his things on the sofa. He closed the sliding doors with force, a veritable "do not disturb" sign!
Half an hour later, Sarina walked in to the kitchen complaining at a much too high decibel level. "Bhaiya is
not letting me into the tv room. I need to dust and clean and my 3 o'clock serial is about to start." I thought better than to argue with her and walked over to the room, pulling open the sliding doors. The sofa was much more crowded than it was earlier. In addition to Sid, who was now wearing my silk floor length dressing gown and smoking a pipe, Molly and Mia were also positioned strategically - the former on the sofa with her paws on Sid's lap and the latter dressed in a pencil skirt and black rimmed spectacles, the quill in her mouth and sitting on sheets of paper. "What in the world are you doing? And why is Molly dressed like that?", I managed to ask. "This my dear, is me setting the scene. I must feel the part of a writer, I must have the accessories and the assistants". "Assistants?", I queried, "Assistants", he replied, waving at my poor puppy who looked itchy and traumatized in the pencil skirt. "Oh please, she loves it, plus she is writing everything down,,,good girl, my little secretary". I looked over at Molly and agreed that she was holding a pen, but as I pointed out she was chewing it while making scratchy shapes on the paper. "Well she's a dog, she can't write! But she'll get there. In the meanwhile, Mia is acting as my editor - I'm running my ideas by her and she sneezes at me when she dislikes an idea and body slams me when she doesn't. It's all going very well. So far she loves all my ideas". I was about to tell him that Sarina wanted a word with him, but he waved his hand at me and dismissed me. I decided he was deranged and that I'd rather deal with a shriek-y Sarina then him. She took it surprisingly well, no ear drum shattering yelling, just a calm statement of going back in a half hour to check.
I did need to go into the "parlour" during the day and each time I went to get something the ever changing
"Oh bubz", he wailed, descending heavily on my foot and not noticing my squawk of indignation. "It's no use, I've tried all day and I just can't do it. My life is much too interesting and cannot be put into words. The tv room is a mess, there's paper everywhere, Mia has chewed one of the wigs and coughing up hair balls and Molly has raced around the room, knocked down the typewriter and swallowed the 'S' key...how in the world am I meant to even write 'by Siddharth Khandelwal' without the 'S' key! They're really not very good assistants...I suggest we get cats, I hear they pay more attention to detail. So anyhow bubz, I thought I could make us rich with a bestseller, shower you with gold, slaves and cattle. But it's not going to happen" He
continued to fiddle with the quilt not noticing that he was twisting my toes underneath. Something seemed to distract him because he looked up at me typing on my laptop. "What's that sound...are you typing?". I nodded in affirmation and continued clicking away. He crawled over and stared at the screen "Reems Peak? What the hell is that?" I snorted in exasperation "It's Reemspeak, not Reems Peak idiot! And it's my blog". He snatched it and read through the list of posts. "Sid learns to read"; Sid and his menage-a-many; Sid reaches and settles; It's a kinda magic...why bubz, this is about me!" I nodded, "yes it is mostly about you and me", he interrupted, "...but mainly me! This is fantastic...all this time I was using those dumb canines when I should have been using you. Come on bubz, you shall write my memoirs. You can include some of these stories. You shall be my phantom writer!" I corrected him, "Ghost writer you mean"..."same difference", he shrugged. "Hop to it bubz, there isn't a moment to lose. Can you wear a sarong and coconut shells...let us begin with when we went on holiday to Bali, believe me props are everything. No coconut shells you say...don't worry I will get the dogs to design you something. Oh this is splendid, we shall begin tonight, I must prepare the parlour for you. We are going to be rich...my life makes for riveting reading!" He zoomed out of the room yelling for Molly and Mia. I casually slipped out of bed, went over to the door and locked it from the inside and went back to my laptop to continue 'Reemspeak-ing'.