𝟏𝟎. 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐚𝐲𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐥 𝐊𝐨

"Allah miya, poori dunya me ek Mr. Angrez ki aur meri shahi company mili thi aapko joint venture ke vaaste?

Pure London me aur koi bhi interested nahi tha Hyderabad me project karne?

Aur agar aapko voich company se karwana tha to koi aur banda nahi mila India bhejne?

Aur agar aapko Mr. Angrez ko ich bheje tha to humare relations nahi rakhna tha. Har cheez me sone pe suhaga acha nahi lagta, Allah miya." I pause, take a sip of water from the bottle that stood by the nightstand before continuing.

"Cousin rakhna tha to good relation wala cousin rakhte. Yaha to phadhe kam hi nahi hore. Ek room me Abbu muh phulake baithe aur ek room me Mumma. Aur humesha ke jaise beech me pisi main. Samajh me nahi aara ke Mumma type harkatan karu ya Abbu type."

Its true, though. Abbu's being grumpy about everything. And I mean, everything. We barely see him stepping out of his room and whenever I hear his voice, it's always complains. Complains about food, the AC not working, too much noise in the house, and things like that.

One the other side, Mumma was being bitchy and bitter towards him. He said, the food's not good, 'order karlo swiggy se', was her response. AC is not cooling the room enough, 'Insaan ka dimaagh itna garam raha to AC bhi koi kaam ka nahi hota'.

Arey, koi baat hai?

"Lekin kal ke baad sab clear hogya. I have to be Abbu part 2. Kal se meko Fahad Abdullah Jr. banne me aapko meri help karna hai." I affirm, pointing my index upwards.

"Disclaimer: kal se mein jo mini stunts pull karu shayad aapko ache nahi dikhe. Lekin aapko malum hai main ye mess sametne ki intention se karne wali hoon. Otherwise meri koi personal grudge nahi hai Mr. Angrez ke khilaf. Ok bye."

Dear readers, thank you for tuning in to my post - Isha rants. Hope you enjoyed.

Tugging at the end of the cotton scarf I had wrapped around my head, I yank it off and jump straight into my waiting bed.

"So ja meri jaan, kal bohot kaam hai." I mutter to myself, pulling the covers over me and shutting my eyes.

Cut to a few hours later, I don't wait time and jump straight into the shower  and dress for the day before making my way downstairs. Yelling my usual Salam, I stride towards the dining room where Mumma smiled at me.

"Sadia! Get Muskaan's roti." She hollers, taking a sip of her morning green tea. Turning her attention to me, she asks. "Kaisa hai mera bacha?"

I couldn't stop eyebrow that cocked at her question.

Itni subha, itne sweet?

"Not too bad." I say cautiously, dropping into the chair across from her.

"Slept well?"

"Uh-huh," I nod, folding my arms across my chest and giving her an inquisitive stare.

"What?" She asks.

"Kuch chahiyea aapko?"

"What do you mean? Can't I ask my baby girl how she is?"

"Not in that voice." I point out.

"What voice?"

"Wo extra sweet voice aapki. The special one that is used on me only when I am told something I don't want to hear."

Whatever mask she had on her face seconds ago has suddenly dropped. The forced stretch of her lips is reduced, and she isn't smiling anymore.

"I wanted to ask a favor." Mumma let's out a sigh.

"There we go." I smirk, breaking a piece of roti that Sadia has dropped onto my plate and pop it into my mouth.

"Muaaz left early." She sighs again, slumping in her seat. I stop chewing, a slow and wide smile making it's way to my face.

"He left? Itni jaldi? Darpok saala. Abhi to kuch karna start bhi nahi kari thi main uske saath. Maza to abhi aane wala tha jab main usko itna tang karne wali thi, itna tang karne wali thi ke khud hi London return ticket book karke raat o raat bhaag jana." I click my tongue in disappointment. "Poor fellow."

"Oh hello, Madam? Muaaz office gaya. London nahi. Sharam karo thodi! Uss masoom si jaan ke peeche kyu pade hue hai tum?"

Office?!

"KIYA?!" I exclaim, smacking my forehead. "Aye hayeeeeeeeeeeeee! Saara mood kharab kardiyea Mumma aap."

"Awe, my baby. Wait until you hear this." Mumma gets to her feet, laying her palms flat on the table. I swallow whatever I had in my mouth seeing her switch from one mode fo the the other and sit up straighter. "I want you and Muaaz to ride together everyday now that your destination is the same. I can't have Karamat do trips up and down the city like a mad man, one for you and one for Muaaz. No arguments. I've made my decision."

What in the world of Pinterest is she talking about? Me and Muaaz, sitting in the same car--

No!

"Lekin, mumma--" I follow her as she covers the distance to the kitchen.

"Save it, Muskaan."

"Suno to--"

"Not a word from you."

"Log kiya kahenge!" I walk around her.

"Kiya kahenge?' She challenged.

Kiya kahenge?!

"Yehi ke. . .apne new partner ke saath saath aari jari bachi, pakka relationship me hai." I wanted to smack myself as soon as the worse reached my ears.

"You are my girl, Muskaan. Since when do you care about what people say?"

"Mumma lekin ye baat pe to aap bhi agree karinge at how harsh rumors can get at offices. Especially if it's about a woman."

"Phir to aap iss baat pe bhi agree karinge that you can defend yourself against the world if need be, thanks to the upbringing you've been given." She smiled for a micro mili second before it was wiped off her face. "If you dont want to share your ride with him, just say it."

"I don't want to share my ride with him." I spit it out.

"Well, that seems like a you problem."

"Mumaa!" I wail, throwing my head backward. Knowing all too well there is no two ways about arguing with my headstrong mother and winning it.

"Guess, karamat is here." She says, patting my cheek. "Chalo, jao."

"Mumma," I start, softly calling her.

"Hmm?"

"Aap mere liyea ek dua karte?"

"Sirf ek?"

"Filhaal, sirf ek."

She tilts her head to the side, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Tell me."

"Mere dil ke chain ke vaaste dua kijiyea."

After the minor buzzkill at home, I was faced with a major one at office. Even before I set foot in the place, i could see a crowd gather around someone and listening intently to whatever the person had to say. The group erupted into laughter as I push open the glass door of our department. A couple of heads turn my way, sending waves in my direction before turning their attention back at-- Muaz?!

"Bohot ache saheb hai, Muskaan bibi." Appearing out of nowhere, Kishore comes to my side with a tray of single tea cup in his hand like he knew of my arrival. "Jab se aayein hai, sabhi unke peeche peeche lage hue hain."

"Sirf ek hi din hua usko join karke." I say bitterly, taking a sip of the tea. "Aur itne me sab uski achai jaan gaye?"

"Acha to sirf insaan ka vataran hota hai, bibi. Jaise ke aapka. Aur abhi ye sahib ka." I shot a glare at the group before turning away and marching towards my cabin.

I had just set my bag on the desk when my phone pinged with a text. Quickly scanning the notification bar, I do a mini victory dance in my mind.

Afsaar had just waved the green flag for the list of places to visit with Mr. Hussein to help him better understand our culture, history and architecture, giving me the much needed go ahead on my plan to mess with Mr. Angrez.

I think we all know, I have no such intentions of doing what I said I was doing. I just need to waste his time and get to his head so he backs down from the project himself.

Taking a side step, I pull my chair to sit on it when the door opens behind me.

"Hey there, cousin."

Itna khush sound karra. Aaj ke baad se hi ke bajaye haye haye nikalne wali hai. Enjoy karlo, Mr. Angrez.

Spinning on my heel, I regard him with a frown. "Did you announce to the entire office we are related?"

"You wanted to be the first one to break it to them?" He inquired casually, leaning against the glass wall with his hands in the pocket of his pants.

"Yes." I grunt. Because I wasn't going to let anyone know. Ever.

"That's what I thought." Mr. Angrez shrugs, and slides into the chair.

"What are you doing?"

"We're partners, remember? I go where you go, I work where you work. I share your office, your cabin, your home, your family with you. Jo tera hai, wo mera bhi hai." He grins, oh-so pleased with himself.

I saw two choices in front of me. Stand here and argue with him, wasting both his and my time and energy. Or, start with my course of action, initiating phase 1.

"Are you willing to waste today's day in bickering with me or do you want to head out?"

"Do I get to pick?"

"Why else would I ask you if you didn't?" I ask incredulously.

"I say we head out."

After some driving around the city we make it to a jam packed place, leaving little to no room for taking a step forward. They were stores on both side of the road that lead to a square monument type of thing in the far end with 4 minarets on each corner. Right where the steps lead you inside the buildings, was a new line of street vendors selling all types of things.

Bangles, crockery, jewelry, make up, clothes, drinks, snacks. And each of them had their own way of calling out to customers.

"Chudhiyan lelo, chudiyan lelo! Ma, beti, behen, girlfriend, saali, nani, dadi, pehli biwi, dusri biwi, teesri biwi, chouthi biwi, Sab ke vaaste hai apne paas chudiyan!"

On my left another one yelled. "Dinner set! Dinner set! Dinner set! Bakri Eid, Ramadan eid, shaadi, jumagi, dawat, haqeeqa, chilla, chetti, baby shower, bridal shower, anniversary, tervi, sare functions ka samantha hai apne paas. Jaldi aao! Jaldi aao! Jaldi aao!"

Putting the noise of the environment to a side, the place itself was oozing with people probably half the population of London. There was no system of a footpath or proper road where vehicles and pedestrians were forced to be at a safe distance from each other by law. I can't tell how many times I've barely missed a bike by an inch or less from hitting me or me hitting the bike. Everyone was welcome everywhere.

"What is this plaice?" I yell out to Ms.Noor over the sound of honking that was half way successful in rendering my ear deaf.

"Charminaar." She answered simply as though it was self explanatory. Noth satisfied, I give it another go.

"Is this our site?"

She snorts, shaking her head in a no. Oh, thank god!

"What are we here for then?" Because we were walking in a straight line like we were in kindergarten, with her in front of me and me following close behind her. Or trying to at least with someone or the other suddenly appearing out of no where and deciding to walk from between the two of us. Over the heads of people that were currently cutting our line to form their own, I notice Ms. Noor step away from the crowd and going to stand on the side of a shop.

In her simple cotton Kurta that had embroidered flowers on it and Mom jeans, Ms. Noor  looked unbothered by everything around her. While me in my shirt, suit jacket and pants was feeling the heat get to me. On reaching her, I take me jacket off, undo the first two buttons of my shirt and roll up my sleeves.

"Pani?" She offered, handing me her bottle of water. Thanking her, I chug a few gulps of water before taking a handful and splashing it on my face.

Ah! That felt good.

My eyes crack open when a snort reaches my ears. Flashing a cocked brow at her, I ask. "What? I'm not used to such places."

"Clearly."

"Why are we here then?" I ask again, but was interrupted by a young boy who set down two paper cups of- was that tea?

"Baji, aapke chaiyan." A plate of thick biscuit were placed on the side. She takes out her phone, scans the QR code the boy had in his hand and leaves.

"What's that?" I ask eyeing the snack in front of me. "It's not time for lunch yet, innit?"

"No. But it is time for chai." She answers, sliding the cup in my direction. "Special Irani chai. With osmania biscuits."

"I'm sorry but I don't think I should. What if-"

"It's not poisoned. See," she raise the cup to her mouth and takes a loud slurpy sip before biting into the biscuit.

"Ok but why are we here?" I almost plead.

Ms. Noor sighs. "Look mr. angrez, you're new to our world. Before we start working on our project, it's import to give you a sneak peak of what we are like and what we like."

"And you think this is going to help?"

"It'll do something atleast." She murmured, looking away at the crowd.

"But--"

"Bakhi ke sawal, chai ke baad. Come on, drink it up. You have no idea how many people fly from all around the world for Nimrah Cafe's Irani chai and Osmania biscuits. Yet here you are taking it for granted just because I bought you here without being asked to."

A sigh left my mouth. This is not how I operated. I didn't focus on getting to know the people and see what they like. I take up a project, do things as I see fit and according to me and move in to the next.

Here, because I had such a brilliant partner, I had to do things according to her. Which is annoying as it is.

I sigh again, running a hand through my face. "Urgh!"

Meeting her awaiting gaze, brown eyes lined with kajal, I notice anticipation on her face as she looked at me with her eyes shining brightly in the afternoon sun. "So. . .?"

"I don't get to pick here, do i?"

"Umm, you do. But I insist on taking the long route."

The long route. As if it were so easy for me.

I really didn't have a choice.

Picking up the paper cup, I put it to my mouth and tip it slightly, almost burning my tongue with the piping hot chai.

"Good choice." She says, offering me the plate of biscuits. I pick one, bite into it and was surprised at the subtle saltiness uthate to it. "You like it?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I cock my head in question.

"Because I can't escape you no matter how badly I want to. Allah miyan had decided that we spend all of our time together for I dont know how long. Doesn't make sense in fighting fate."

Was she being honest? Or was this a facade that had a underlying motive to it?

Giving her a nod in return, I decide to let the question go for now and focus on the kind of tea I had never had in my 28 years if life ever. Also the biscuit that I was munching on.

"Good, na?" She asks.

"Something different."

☕️🍪

Hello, fraands! Chai peelo. Comment karke batao chapter kaisa laga. Suggestions to story ideas are most welcome.

Peace out.🫰🏻