Amma’s voice breaks the calm of dawn. “Asha, wake Anish. He’ll be late for school.”

“His alarm is 4 minutes 24 seconds away, now 23 seconds,” Asha replies as she peels the last potato, her slender hands working without a pause. Her mahogany skin is smooth and flawless. The pleats of her elegantly-draped saree fall gracefully. The brown in her eyes twinkles to golden-yellow in the morning light’s reflection. 

“A few minutes before the alarm is okay, Asha. Anyway, he whines a lot before actually getting off the bed.”

“Okay, Amma,” Asha replies, walking a minute later towards Anish’s bedroom. The peeled and mashed potatoes, spiced and salted to perfection, and the soft dough for the parathas are ready and resting in one corner of the kitchen slab. 

“Two more minutes, Asha.” Anish’s whine is heard. 

Amma beams in pleasure as she hears the click of a switch. Asha had switched off the fan. 

Yay! My training is working! 

Asha yanks off the cozy blanket. Anish screeches angrily.

“ASHA!” “GIVE IT BACK!”

Asha is as cool as a cucumber and ignores his rants. He shuts up as soon as his mother walks in and gives him an “enough-of-this-childishness” glare. 

“Get up and get ready for school, Anish.”

Anish continues to grumble, but under his breath.  

Catching a breath between the usual mother-son morning fights, Asha says, “The temperature of the water is a perfect 98 degrees F. Have a quick shower while I get your uniform ready.”

Asha picks out his uniform even as she commands the AI-aided iron box,  “Heat up for cotton.”

Asha places the uniform on the table, and the iron box glides out from its stand. Within a couple of minutes, a crisply ironed uniform set is ready for Anish. 

Anish comes out of the bathroom wet, water droplets forming a little pool at his feet, and clad in nothing. Asha dries him down and helps him with his uniform. 

While she is doing this, she calls out to Robot Rani, “Mop up the water near the bathroom door.”

A whirring sound starts immediately as Robot Rani circles like a model and slurps up the water, leaving the floor clean and dry in minutes.

She drones in her AI-aided voice, “Ok, Asha?”

“Next, go to the kitchen. Amma has finished her morning chores. Clean up the floor, and then move to the dining and living rooms.”

“Ok, Asha.”

“Don’t go to the master bedroom. Appa returned late last night and is still sleeping. Clean that room immediately when he comes out.”

“Okay,” drones Robot Rani, swirling away to do her chores.

Amma calls from the kitchen, “Toast and omelette ready, Anish.”

Anish walks out of his room with his school satchel and sits at the table. Asha follows him, takes the plate from Amma, and places it in front of Anish.

Anish is smiling now. His morning blues have disappeared, and he loves his breakfast. He is ready to face the day. 

 “What would I do without you, Asha? You help me with everything, from changing my clothes to doing my homework.” His grin spreads from ear to ear. A hint of a smile plays on Asha’s face.

Amma smiles too, “Asha, remember the laundry.”

Asha walks unhurriedly to load dirty clothes into the washing machine. Her timing is perfect. 

Just as she turns on the switch, Anish finishes his breakfast – well, almost. She force-feeds him the last bit on the plate, exactly like Amma taught her. 

“No wasting food!” Amma had repeated this multiple times in the past six months, and it was now a sacred, unbreakable tenet for Asha.

The school bus’s hoot is heard over the whirring of Rani and the washing machine. Anish, with Asha in tow, heaving his bag with ease, leaves the house. 

“Bye, Amma.”

Amma calls after them, “Bye, Anish. Asha, pick up the groceries.”

“Yes, Amma. I just checked the list you shared.”

Just as they leave, Appa comes out of the master bedroom. In an instant, Robot Rani enters the master bedroom, nearly grazing Appa’s ankle.

He jumps and yells, “Why can’t it wait for a couple more minutes before rushing in?” 

Robot Rani continues working in stony silence. 

Amma smiles at her husband’s morning irritation, “Like father, like son! Not morning larks! Asha did tell her to clean the master bedroom immediately after you exited it.” 

Appa grumbled, “We must teach Asha not to use words like immediately, never, etc. These goddamn gadgets are too precise for our own good. Sometimes, I miss our old Kaveriamma’s lazy, imperfect way of working. There was space for humanness!”

“Ya! Ya! There was more dust after she swept than before! And her mop was either too wet or too dry for a clean finish. Rani is perfect.”

Robot Rani whirrs incessantly, oblivious to the praise! 

“Kaveriamma was so slack with Anish’s discipline, too! And not to mention the number of approved and unapproved holidays she took. Asha is so good with him.”

“Imperfection keeps us grounded,” mumbles Appa. “Alexa, turn on the TV and the news channels, please.”

The TV turns on and noise of impending wars, war of words between leaders of different nations, accidents, rapes of men and women, inflation, and more stifle the earnest whirr of the cleaning machines. 

A half-hour later, Asha walks in with the groceries just as Appa finishes his parathas and two cups of chai. 

“Good mor….” Asha’s voice whines to a sudden stop. Luckily, she had placed the groceries on the table by then.

Appa gets up from his seat, pulls out the charger from Asha’s slender, ebony neck, and plugs it into the charging point.

“You forgot to charge Asha again!” Appa fumes. Amma looks sheepishly apologetic and rushes to Asha to archive today’s data before they get erased. 

This post is a part of Storytellers Bloghop hosted by MeenalSonal (link www.auraofthoughts.com) & Ujjwal Mishra ( link mywordsmywisdom.com) 

You can read some of your retellings from our puranas and itihasas here:

https://storiesmadesimple.in/wp-admin/post.php?post=269009&action=edit 

https://storiesmadesimple.in/wp-admin/post.php?post=268836&action=edit