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I was settling all her luggage into the back of my car, making sure everything was snug and secure.
She stood by with her arms crossed, still pouting slightly. We were heading to a medical camp, and at first, she refused to come along with me .
"I don't do well with long drives," she protested. But then I played my trump card. "What if I promise to play Falguni Pathak songs for the entire journey?"
Her eyes had lit up. "Fine, but only if all the songs are Falguni!"
So here we were, with her in the passenger seat, looking at me out of the corner of her eye as I started the car. I couldn't help but laugh.
As we hit the highway, the first song came on, and she immediately started singing along, her voice way louder than the music itself.
I grinned as she mimicked the dance moves in her seat, making dramatic expressions and twirling her hand in the air.
At one point, she tried to grab the steering wheel while belting out, "Sawan mai morning banke mai cham cham nachuu!" I swatted my morni's hand away, laughing. "Hey! I need to drive! We don't want to die this soon ."
She snorted, then sat back, crossing her arms again.
"Areh haan, mujhe yaad aaya! I made some aloo parathas for you," she said, starting to find through her bag.
"For me?" I asked, eyes lighting up.
"Yes, I thought, if the driver is going to be so cooperative, cool, handsome, and all that then mere hathon ka aloo ke parathe toh bante hain, right?" she teased with a grin.
"Absolutely, amor!" I replied, already imagining the taste.
She pulled out the tiffin box with a flourish, placing her bag in the back seat. The smell of fresh parathas hit me, and my stomach growled in anticipation.
