" Cause mummy, Mai Einstein, Newton k baare me jaankar kya karungi jab bade hokar mujhe poora Kamathipura hi kharidna Hai !! "
She got slapped for saying that.
***
{Slow updates}
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- Just A Girl With Broken Dreams -
Association is a powerful tool.
Ever realize how you don't curse and mentally Abuse your fathers, forefathers and chachas with graceful, creative swear words only, and only because they are fucking related to you.
But God forbid us darling, because I know, any other man, no wait, any other bastard who exhibit the same traits, and we go raising hell upon them , at least mentally if not literally, possibly.
And the bastards deserve it.
It always comes back to blood relations. Always.
And even the bas-members in our own family des-
"Beta, aapko Khanna banana aata hai?" This x no. Potential Suitor's mother asks me.
"Nahi aata." I straighaway away reply honestly. Neither there is any dilchaspi or jigyaasa to learn the same.
"Are bhabhi aisa kuch nhi Hai," Chachu intervenes when the aunty scrunches up her face in displeasure, " Meri beti rotiyon ke alawa sab acchhe se bana leti Hai. Ham rotiya bhi perfect karwa denge agar ye rishta pakka ho jaaye. Toh kya kahna ?" And he laughs.
Kudos to him, for giving the punch line of the century.
And surprisingly, aunty also joins while the rest of us look at each other with forced awkward smiles.
"Zaroor. Bas bacche ek baar baat krle pahle." Aunty says placing the empty teacup, which papa gave me on 17th b'day because I was fond of chai, just like him, on table.
And I'll give it to her, my hopefully-not-saasumaa has more common sense than my chacha and her son combined.
"Toh fir bheje kya baccho ko Akeley baat krne ke liye?" My chachi asks aunty, eagerly. Apparently, this woman just wants to be free of me very badly. She doesn't know that sentiments are also reciprocated here.
While Mr. Natwar Raj is busy sipping the tea, without a care that this is his life , his future we're talking about right now. Then he quickly finishes in one go as Aunty nudges him, furiously.
And carelessly slams the teacup on table. Careful Fucker ! I'll chop your testicle off after our marriage if there's as much as a tiny scratch on my precious cup. Just you see.
He stands up and holds his hands out for me.
I muster my fake genuinely happy soft smile and grab my chunni, instead of his hand, albeit shyly. Don't be fooled, it's just for show.
I notice the way uncle and aunty mask their hurt over me rejecting their precious son's hand, the way Chachi narrows her eyes at me being aware of my tactics, admiration for Natwarji in Chacha's eyes and mummy's frown as I lead him the way. To my bedroom, of all places available in this household.
