Jhilmil, Mr And Mrs Banerjee Incoming

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 1

𝐽𝑎𝑖 𝑆ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝐾𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑛𝑎
𝑁𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒
***************************
“Ei ne, kaje aashbe,” His friends Robin and Sayan forcefully palmed him a pack of protections before pushing him inside his dimly yet sensually lit room. He could hear his friends cracking up and whistling. He quickly put the packet inside the pocket of his white kurta. For the love of Maa Durga (Goddess Durga) he didn't want to scare his young wife to her wits.

Translation:-  (Ye le, kaam aayega. Here, it is gonna be of use )

His eyes landed on Jhilmil, his newly wedded wife, sitting in the middle of the bed wearing a blood red banarasi saree.

The lit phone screen glowed onto her face as her eyes stayed glued to the phone screen. He looked closely only to see that his wife was immersed watching a cricket match.

“Yes!” She punched the air as one of the players hit a boundary. He watched her in sheer amusement. “Ahmm!” He fake cleared his throat to gain her attention and he did.

She looked up from her phone screen, her eyes wide in surprise and eventually a coy smile took over her features. The sound of jingling bangles reverberated around the room as she raised her hand which was adorned with Shankha and Paula( type of bangles worn by married Bengali ,Assamese ladies) to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Nomoshkar, ginni,” He walked over to the bed and sat a few inches away from her. ( Namast, Wife ~Greetings, Wife)

“Nomoshkar,” She greeted him back in a gentle voice.

“So, do you like the room, Jhilmil?” He looked around the room. He had made a few changes a few days ago keeping in mind Jhilmil was going to stay with him.

“Yes, it's beautiful. Are you a Saurav Ganguly fan as well?” She asked, looking at the small poster of Dada on the wall of the study table.  ( Dada~Nickname of Saurav Ganguly, cricket fans will know.)

“Hmm, growing up, Dada and Sachin Tendulkar were my favourite cricketers. I used to dream of becoming like them.” He said, looking at the poster.

“Then? Why did you not chase your dreams?” She asked innocently, shifting closer to him. Eager to know about her newly wedded husband.

“Responsibilities Jhilmil. They give you the harsh reality check of life. You see, Jhilmil, middle class people are not choosers. There's a point in life of a child born in a middle class family where he or she has to choose between responsibilities, expectations and passion. Most of us end up choosing responsibilities. And I am one of them.” He gave her a small smile.

Hearing his words, Jhilmil was forced to think over it herself. Noticing his wife's thought immersed face. He said, “Bujhle ginni?” flicking her nose. Which she very cutely scrunched. (Understood, wifey?)

“Yes,” She looked up at him with her doe-like eyes and that very moment Kavish could swear to God that he felt his heart skip a beat. Whereas Jhilmil wanted to tell him something but stopped. Maybe she was one of them too.

It was the first time he was seeing his wife this close. She had a straight nose with a set of big umber eyes. Her warm ivory skin tone glowed under the yellow glow of the wall lamp. Her lips were painted red which matched the colour of her cheeks.

She looked incredibly young, a reminder of her young age.

“Did you eat anything?” He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.

“I did. Have you?” She asked, mentally face palming herself. She would have known if her husband had eaten only if she was not busy gobbling down 'Roshogullas' one after the other at her own wedding reception party.