Munni Monster by Madhurima Vidyarthi

Author:Madhurima Vidyarthi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Random House India Private Limited
Published: 2020-03-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

After that, it was war.

War.

In capital letters. Even though Mishti was pulled up for bad behaviour. Even though Thamma cuddled her and cuddled her, again and again, and tried to make things better with all sorts of promises. Mishti would not be cuddled. And she would not be consoled.

In her grief, she even made friends with Riya again. ‘None of this would have happened if Thamma hadn’t got herself a cold.’

‘Yeff.’ Riya nodded, chewing noisily. ‘Very inconsiredate.’

‘What?’

‘It means,’ Riya emptied her mouth in one big gulp, ‘that she didn’t think about you.’

‘No one thinks about me,’ said Mishti, gloomily.

‘Don’t worry.’ Riya swooped down on the last mini quiche Lorraine. ‘I’ve got a plan—MHMB Part 2! If they won’t think about you, you’ll have to force them to!’

A long discussion followed. And after dinner, Mishti put the plan into action.

Just as she was leaving the table, she announced, looking straight at Thamma, ‘I want a bed—’

The grown-ups swivelled around to look at her.

‘A single bed,’ she said again, loudly. ‘Like a bunk bed—I can’t sleep squashed in like a sausage any more.’

‘Oh, poor Mishti,’ Thamma began, but Baba stopped her.

‘One minute, Ma. What is the matter, Mishti?’ he asked. ‘Why this sudden longing for a bed?’

Mishti looked around the table, thinking of Riya’s words. Ma was beginning to look furious, so she fixed her eyes on Thamma, took a deep breath and launched into the pre-planned speech.

‘I am too old now to sleep squashed between my parents. I have grown up and I need my own space like everyone else and it is inconsiredate—’

Baba spluttered and quickly started coughing.

Mishti glared at him.

‘It is inconsiredate and—and—’ She struggled to remember the words that Riya had drummed into her. But nothing would come. Ma was giggling and Baba was screwing up his mouth and even Thamma was chuckling openly.

‘It’s not fair!’ she cried at last, very loudly so that they would know she meant it. ‘I want a bed of my own. It’s horrible having to share with Ma and Baba in their tiny bedroom and use the outside bathroom in the cold and—and—why can’t I have my own bed?’ She ended on a wail.

Ma got up and came to put her arm around Mishti. She wasn’t angry any more or laughing, just a little sad. But Mishti shrugged off Ma’s arm. She didn’t want to be comforted like a child, she just wanted her own way. Which meant her own bed. The soonest it could be arranged.

‘Poor Mishti, I’m so sorry about all this.’ Thamma reached out to Mishti.

‘Thamma, no!’ Mishti flung her arm back and nearly stamped her foot again. ‘Stop treating me like a baby— I’m nearly eleven years old! I’m not a baby to be petted and consoled with empty promises!’

That last grand-sounding bit was Riya’s. Mishti had remembered it just in time.

‘Sit down,’ Baba said so suddenly, it made her jump.

‘Sit down,’ he said again when she didn’t move. Firmly. Calmly but firmly.

‘If I understand you,’ he said as soon as Mishti had sat down, ‘you object to being treated like a child.

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