Not My Little Sister

Chapter 37: Chicken Curry

Vinaya got dressed, making as much noise as she could, closing the bathroom door forcefully, and rummaging through the cabinets with unnecessary vigor.

Despite her efforts, Nithin seemed to sleep through it all. Her initial irritation however, quickly turned to concern. Was he dead? She did have Mangal dosham after all. She shook off the irrational fear and approached him cautiously. Relief washed over her as she saw his chest rise and fall with each breath.

However, as she turned to leave, Nithin suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her into bed. Caught off guard, she stumbled and fell onto him.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed as her elbow inadvertently hit his chest.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vinaya snapped, irritated by the unexpected intrusion.

"I was just trying to hug my wife," Nithin replied innocently.

"Right," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Don't touch me again."

"You didn't seem to mind yesterday when you were all over me," he remarked, unfazed.

Vinaya glared at him, her indignation evident. "Screw you!" she retorted.

"Can't wait!" he shot back, his tone teasing.

With a huff of frustration, Vinaya straightened her outfit and stormed out of the room, leaving Nithin to chuckle to himself.

Vinaya marveled at the kitchen, impressed by how it had been modernized while still retaining its historical charm.

There was still a power outage, but the previous night's storm had cooled the atmosphere. The windows in the kitchen were open, allowing a gentle breeze to flow through, carrying with it the fresh scent of wet earth.

"Mole, do you feel comfortable making puttu and kadala curry?" Nithin's mother inquired, her tone warm and inviting. Vinaya nodded in affirmation.

"The kadala has been soaked overnight. The maid will assist you. She knows where everything is," his mother informed her kindly.

Vinaya delegated the chopping and cleaning tasks to the maid and set about preparing the breakfast. She expertly made puttu, placing them in two separate casseroles, and cooked the kadala curry in the pressure cooker.

Grateful that she hadn't been burdened with the decision of what to make, Vinaya spotted ripe plantains and decided to boil them, serving them with ghee and honey as an additional treat.

As Vinaya finished cooking, she found herself sweating profusely through her clothes. Swearing under her breath, she hurried back to the room to change. There, she found Nithin engrossed in his laptop, his expression serious.

"Aren't you coming down for breakfast?" she asked him.

"Yeah, in a minute," he replied without looking up. Shrugging, Vinaya headed downstairs, where the guests had already started arriving.

"Nalla penkutty," she heard someone say, and a smile tugged at her lips. It felt good to be complimented.

Before long, everyone, including Nithin, was seated at the dining table.

"You've met Surendran uncle, appan's brother, and his wife Sukanya aunty," his mother pointed out a serious-faced man and a mousy-looking woman. Vinaya recognized them from the various events over the last two days.

"And this is Ramani aunty, appan's sister, and Kunjan uncle, her husband," she continued. Vinaya smiled at them, joining her hands together as a gesture of respect.

Per tradition, Vinaya brought the food in from the kitchen, serving her husband first. He took his first bite and complimented her genuinely, "Really good," he said, eliciting echoes of praise from the rest of the family.