‘Use these cups, girl. Henceforth don’t touch the other ones—these cups are good enough for you,’ she says.

Simmi stares at the chipped cups but doesn’t take them. She smiles at Dragon.

‘Thank you Mataji! You can use the “good enough” cups yourself,’ she says and takes a sip from the cup she’s holding.

Mini takes a sharp breath and pushes Simmi back.

‘She is a stupid, insolent girl Mataji, forgive her. I will go and change the cups right away,’ she says and takes the cups from Dragon.

Dragon glares at Simmi, her mouth compressed into a harsh line.

‘First they use the good cups, next they will wear your jewellery; you should fire these people right away, Polly. You’ve hired the wrong sort,’ Dragon says and continues glaring at Simmi.

My head is throbbing, I’m very late for work and I’m absolutely sick of Dragon trying to dictate my life.

‘You can do the rest tomorrow, Mini,’ I say.

Mini takes the hint—she puts the untasted cups of tea back in the kitchen and the family leaves.

Dragon rounds on me the moment Mini and the girls leave the house.

‘The audacity of that tart—’

‘I am not going to fire Mini,’ I say.

Dragon stares at me, a very nasty look on her face.

‘Very well then, your house, your rules—who am I to say anything about how you run it, beta?’ Dragon says in a conciliatory tone. ‘However, you should know your own limitations. No Photoshop can change real life—if I was you, I wouldn’t have such a beautiful young girl working for me. But then like I said, your house … I won’t have any paranthas today,’ Dragon says and walks off into her room.

I am still seething from the morning incident but there’s nothing much I can do about it. Not reacting to that Photoshop jibe—I know where that comes from—was really hard for me, but I’m glad I was calm.

Dragon always tries to provoke me so that she can have an all-out fight with me and then complain to her son about it. There’s no point in telling Sid anything because he wouldn’t believe it—he sees his mother as a harmless little old woman. When I’d tried complaining about her rearranging the house that first time, Sid had said that she was being helpful and I needed to change my viewpoint.

I didn’t go to office eventually—when I called Comma to apologize for the delay and explain the situation, she got really mad at me and asked me to stay home. Since I’m on probation, it means unpaid leave. However, Comma still wants me to file the blogger-story brief and make two compilations from home. I’m happy, though. I don’t mind work when I can do it from bed!