1.4

"As-salamu-wallikum, Abbaji," I greeted him through the phone.

"Wallikum-salam, Tilli, you reached?" Abbaji asked in a concerned voice.

"Yes, Abbaji, I reached."

"Did you meet Mrs Khurrana?"

"No, I didn't meet them but, I met their nephew and niece,"

"Niece and nephew?"

"Rishi never told me he's married!!"

"What! If not Rishi uncle's wife who's Mrs Khurrana then?"

"Oh, you mistook Anjana Ji as Rishi's wife?"

"Who's this Anjana Ji now?"

"OMG! You must have met Vinu and his sister, I don't remember her name."

"Nivishthi."

"Yeah, Anjana Ji is Vinu's mother, tomorrow you go and meet her."

"Okay, by the way, Abhishek is also here in Delhi."

"Yes, Raunak told me, that he's on the same train as yours, I called you to tell you that but, you lost the network."

"Oh, he'll come tomorrow to help me in arranging the house."

"It's your home now, Tilli."

"No, my home is in Pahalgam, it's a house, Abbaji."

"Are you okay, Tilli?" he asked and I started crying, "aye, why are you crying, Tilli?"

"I miss you, Abba," I said in a heavy voice.

"You know na, I don't like it when you cry," he said, "wait, you had dinner?"

"No."

"Yeah, that's why you're crying, you're hungry, go and eat something."

"There are no ingredients," I said and heard the sound of the doorbell ringing, "just a second Abbujaan," I was standing at the window so, I peeped through it and saw Vineet standing out of my house at 9:00 PM, with a cloth bag in his hand, I kept the phone on the table without hanging it up and went to open the door.

"Dinner for you, Shaheera," he said showing me the bag as I opened the door, "I know, I shouldn't be coming this late to your house but, Nivishthi was busy studying for her case and Mumma was also busy, so, you'll have to bear with me," he said pouting his face towards me.

"Oh, no, it's fine, Vinu," I said, "please, come in," I asked him to come in and hung up my father's call after informing him about Vineet's arrival. Meanwhile, Vineet went into the kitchen and started setting the food on the plate and, a glass, mend up of steel fell on his toes and he groaned and I ran into the kitchen, "what happened? What are you doing here, Vineet?" I asked him as if I was someone who had the authority over him, as if, I was his mom and yelling at my son to be careful and all.

"Getting food for you," he said picking up the glass, "I'm okay, Shaheera, you go and sit there," he said signalling towards the sofa and, I followed, 'Why do I feel so home-like with him? Now, it's my house, I should've been hospitle but, here, it's just reversed,' as soon as I realised that I rushed into the kitchen and Vineet argued, "arey, you back again, go and sit there," and I followed it again, I don't know what on earth was wrong with me, I had never been so comfortable with other guys but, this person, I don't know what's wrong or rather right with him that I felt so comfortable with him, "your pulaav, ma'am, Abhishek told me you don't eat chapatis at night, so, I got this pulaav for you," he said with the sweetest smile ever on the earth.

"Did you make it?" I asked pointing at the plate.

"Yes, you can say," he said, "sort of," he added, "c'mon eat, it'd get cold or else."

"You?" I asked in the most innocent way I could ever, I mean, obviously, we're not here on a dinner date that we'd eat the same thing but, courtesy, you know, he had been the most hostile host ever so, it was my duty to ask him for the dinner.

"Are you sure?" he asked dragging me out of the chain of my thoughts.

"I mean, you can join me if you've not had your dinner," I said folding my legs up on the sofa and picking up the plate in my hand, "why are you standing? Go get your plate," I ordered him, 'and, the awards for most hostile host goes to Shaheera Farooq Mallik,' I honoured myself with the award in my mind while Vineet joined me with his plate and a water bottle, I noticed it but, didn't say anything.

"I don't have a way with the glasses," he said awkwardly.

"I saw that," I chuckled, "Pulaav is delicious though," I added.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed and folded his legs up on the sofa and started eating, "what else do you like to eat, Shaheera?" he asked.

"Pani puri, for sure," I said wondering who told him I like pulaav, "what about you, what do you like to eat?"

"Parathas and, butter chicken," he said, "you are non-vegetarian na?" he asked still busy eating his meal.

"No," I replied and his jaw dropped which caused him heavy coughing, I kept my plate on the centre table and moved towards him and rubbed his back and gave him some water to drink and, he was ok after some time.

"That was a huge one," he said looking at the green-chilli in his plate, "I ate it without a notice," he added, "what you were saying, Shaheera, you're vegetarian?" he asked and I nodded, "you're the first vegetarian Muslim I've met yet, hey, what about that Biryani? Abhishek asked for?"

"I can cook meat but, eating animals is not my cup of tea," I said, "after working in an NGO in Pahalgam and Srinagar, I've got a kind of sympathy with these animals, you know, even, in the Eid, I just can't stand when that goat is getting chopped into pieces," I cleared.

"Wait, you've worked in an NGO?" He asked, "tell me more about it," he added taking another bite of the pulaav.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a traditional style of an NGO, rather it was just a group of some youngsters at that time, when I and Abhishek were in out mid-twenties," I started and told him how we rescued animals in distress and provided them shelter and, how I and Abhishek were the guardian of 10 stray dogs, 6 stray cats and 3 pigeons and, he listened it all very carefully and after I finished up with my speech on my good deeds which I end up very awkwardly as I hate bragging things about myself, I ended up getting lost in his eyes, again, I ended turning that gaze into a stare, again and suddenly a snap came infront of our eyes.

"Are you both playing a game?" A little boy said, snapping the fingers of both his hands infront of our face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, "and, how did you find me? Where's your father?" I added a chain of questions.

"Are you done?" He asked, I nodded in frustration and he sat down on the sofa escaping a deep sigh.

"Will you tell me? Or should I call your Abbajaan?" I asked him in a threatening manner.

"As if he'll pick up your call, Ammi," he frowned.

"He will, surely, 'cause I talked with him just in the morning," I said.

"Oh, did he?" He snapped.

"I'll give you a tight slap, Faheem," I said, "what you're doing here?" I asked again, this time in a bit strict tone.

***