“Gotya, wake up, you bum.”
Gotya was shaken up from his sleep. He shuddered, then forced his face to point to where the sound was coming from. He let in as much of his father’s looming figure as his hazy vision allowed.
Gotya’s father was tired of Gotya’s utter lack of competence at any work there possibly was to do. Gotya, on the other hand, was fed up with the extreme truculent manner in which his father constantly chided him. Neither of them attempted to right anything. Gotya continued to laze away the days and the nights. His father continued to bark at him for doing so.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Just what you told me Baba,” was all he managed to mutter. He was still livid with his father for waking him up early. Just as he was every day. He was still spread across his Charpai — spread even more than the bedsheet beneath him did.
“And what is that?”
“Not to do anything stupid,” he hissed now — his father just won’t give up.
“That is what you are not going to do, Gotya. I asked what are you going to do now?”
Gotya sighed. “Haven’t we just gone through this?” he pondered. And finally, annoyed, he shot back, “Anyway, what am I going to do?”
“We just went through this, you idiot. Stop being stupid.”
“See.” It was Gotya who barked now. “That’s why I keep saying you are getting old now. Isn’t that exactly what I said I am going to do - not doing anything stupid?”
Gotya sat straight now, his father contrarily bent a little. He then stretched somewhat and then bent a lot more, sighing. Herding this fool is no less difficult than the thoughtless goats, goats are easier withal, he mumbled.