I Am A Helpful Husband

Characters: Husband (me) Kapil, Wife Pooja, Mother Rani, Servant  Devraj --short Dev

English is my second language; please pardon my errors.

Chapter 1: Coming to America


My name is Kapil. I am 28 and I am from India. It has been five years that I migrated to USA. I had been busy exploring the new world and settling down. I built a home in the southwest on a 10 acre property. Now that the initial excitement is over and I have settled down I found myself lonely with nothing at hand to do. Because of the estates I inherited from my father I don't have to work so you can imagine I have abundant free time at hand. I started to think more and more of my life back home in India.


The village I used to live in was like stuck 100 years back in the past. We have vast lands and farms with scores of servants working under our family for generations. Our immediate family lives in a fortress-like home. The home has extensions which houses my extended family like uncles, aunts, grandparents and cousins etc. This complex is then surrounded by an irregular circle of all sorts of living quarters for dozens of farmers and servants whose livelihood depends on us. 

Our family was very traditional with one exception -- my mother had the final say in everything. She was very loving to everyone, very caring. Once one of our farmer's wife died; he was devastated beyond description -- that is what mother said. Then mother let him sleep with her in her bed for more than a month. My father had to spend all those nights right on the edge of the bed; he even fell a couple of times. Mother said we always should help the poor. Then my mom let the farmer go when he was fully relieved of his grief.

I started thinking about starting my own family. " I think I should marry someone from my own village. Someone very gentle, caring and giving, innocent, untarnished." I immediately phoned my mother; within a week she had the right girl for me. Her name was Pooja. We married in a rush using telephone and courier to exchange documents and I sponsored her to come to  America to live with me; my mother came along to help me in my new life. I had two surprises at the airport. One -- I saw one of our villagers, Devraj, carrying luggage following my new wife and mother. He was one of the older family servants but mostly used to work on farms. He was getting old -- in his 50's but looking a few years older. Tall, dark-skinned but skinny, somewhat malnourished. He used to walk with giant leaps with his long legs. The other surprise --- my mother was carrying five year old girl. She was walking ahead of Pooja and Dev in the airport arrival terminal, her left breast hanging out while the girl was suckling on it. The girl was irritable probably because of the long journey; mother was holding her left breast close to the nipple with her right hand slightly squeezing the nipple between her index and middle finger and fruitlessly trying to place the nipple in the her mouth. The girl was shaking head back and forth causing the nipple to squirt drops of milk all around. My mind raced to my past. I have suckled on these nipples countless times, not only when I was a baby but also more recently. Mum says maternal milk is better than any other tonic in the world. When I used to come back from a game or after a long business trip, I would always find my mother standing in the front courtyard with her boobs hanging down with the weight of the milk ready for me to suck on. Sometimes me and my father would suckle on each breast after combined business trip. Mother had to keep up her milk production as we were eight brothers and sisters plus my father; on top of that mum would help poor servants once in a while after they were very exhausted working in hot weather. She would let them suck on her nipples for a few minutes while she was supervising their work. Sometime she would ask one of the farmers rub her in between her legs; mum says it makes her produce more milk.


My thoughts were interrupted by my mum's familiar voice. I wanted to hug my new wife standing close by but she was shy being in public. I grabbed some of the luggage, stuffed everything in a taxi and got everyone home. In the taxi my mum introduced the girl to me as my sister born soon after my  departure for US five years ago. I always have thought very highly of my mother but the arrival of this new girl made me immensely proud to have a very fertile mother who never gets tired.

