"I don't want to become the kind of Adwait who would rip every single skin cell off any man who dares to have even the faintest touch upon your skin," He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her earlobe.
Nitya's heart raced in response to his words. Sh...
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The city is bustling with activity as vehicles of all sorts clog the streets. The sound of horns can be heard from all directions and tired people were making their way home from a long day of work.
I weaved my way through the chaotic street, dodging cars and squeezing through the crowds. Finally, I made it to the other side and stepped into the cozy glow of a stationary shop,
I roamed the aisles, picking up stacks of paper, pens, and other must-have supplies. There were certain items and books that caught my eye but I held back knowing I couldn't make a move without running it by Adwait first.
After all, we were working on this assignment together and I didn't want to give him any reason to believe that I was disregarding his contribution or neglecting his presence.
The disadvantages of working on assignments in a group.
With my arms loaded with supplies, I shuffled over to the checkout counter of the stationary shop. After a brief search through my pockets, I fished out my wallet and paid for my purchases. I collected my bags and stepped out of the shop.
I opted to forgo any mode of transportation and take a leisurely stroll to my home which was a mere stone's throw away.
Reaching home, I set my materials down on the sofa and tossed my bag aside before making a dash for the kitchen. There, I found my mother chopping vegetables for dinner.
"Maa, let me help you." I offered, leaning against the counter and placing both palms on the slab.
"No, Niu, go rest. I'll take care of it," she brushed off my offer.
"I am not tired," I protested and gently took the knife and vegetables from her hands and began peeling them with precision.
Maa watched me for a moment with a smile playing at the corners of her mouth before she returned to her own tasks in the kitchen.
Just as we were wrapping up in the kitchen, the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing echoed through the house, signaling my father's arrival.
I could almost picture him sinking into his favorite armchair, the television flickering to life as he tuned in to the evening news and immersed himself in the comfort of his habitual ritual.
We quickly finished preparing our meal and started laying the table. The dining table was filled with the delicious aroma of our food, and I could feel my stomach rumbling with hunger.
Gathering my materials from the sofa, I retreated to my room. After freshening up, I slipped into something comfortable before making my way to the dining area. Upon arrival, I found Maa and Papa already seated and enjoying their dinner.
I settled into my usual seat at the table and filled my plate with roti, dal, and a generous dollop of pickle—the latter being a daily habit of mine.
