The Ideal NRI Couple mistake

3. Ishani

So I had a massive writers block but here I'm back with a bang. Hoping to upload two chapters today.

Its been two weeks since we came to Singapore. Our posh Oak road apartment is starting to seem sad to me. The view no longer enchants me. I stare outside most of the day. Till now Neil has ditched me two whole weekends and on a dinner date. I am still to discover the town because he wants us to go around together. The only Indian in our entire complex is Mrs Sahni who is my mom's age and my excuses of not calling her over for chai are running low.

And excuses remind me, I need to learn cooking. Neil is under the impression I make awesome biryani, chicken, vegetable and mutton, which I get from this small seller in the backlane of Mustafa mall. I accidentally got it on my first trip to the mall to get Indian masalas. But my excuses of not making anything else are kind of running low. I have to feign sickness, sleeping, burning vegetables just to prove I can cook. Well I wanted to impress him and I lied. I can only make eggs which kind of work because every morning we run late.

The only upside is that our sex life is great. I am blushing thinking of our shower together today. My phone beeps, "hello love. Dinner at Fullerton today?" I smile. Neil is too much under pressure and its testing me not to fight with him. "Sure but can I at least hit the mall road alone, first?" He doesn't reply back. I Don't know what's got into him. He has been acting weird about me going about alone, I have visited him here alone, stayed alone in a hotel and ran back alone. I Dont know what is scaring him now. He keeps on making the weirdest excuses. He doesn't reply back. Figures.

I bang the phone down on the small dinner table. These broken conversations were surely breaking me. I wanted my old life back and not for the first time I feel we have rushed our wedding. I could have waited.

I got up from the beige boring leather sofa and walked back to my room. I need to redecorate this drab place before it becomes too much. I quickly wear my denims, a deep red Bardot top that matched my wedding bangles or chooda as we Punjabi's called it. I messaged Neil, "going to Mrs Sahni's place and maybe to the mall. Tell me what's the plan for tonight."

I picked up my bag and went to meet aunty. As I rang her bell I felt unsure, meeting friends never makes us unsure but when we have to meet anyone who is in our mom dad's category it is difficult. "Namaste aunty." I smiled as she opened the door. "Hello Ishani beta. I thought you would never come to my place. Come in," she invited me. I quickly went inside and was surprised to see a vibrant place. The apartment was designed much like ours but that's where the similarity ended. While ours looked like a hotel room hers looked like a warm house with photos, catchy rugs, and the general hullabaloo. I felt tears in my eyes, her house reminded me of mom dad, my room, my house. I looked up to see she was offering me water.

"So how are you enjoying the new place?" Her question had many answers I gave my best reply. "It's nice but my cooking could be better." She smiled. "So what is the basic food you can make?" I looked at her and smiled, was this a test? "Eggs" I mumbled unsure of what to say. Her eyes looked like she expected me to say more items of an imaginary menu. But I couldn't carry on that lie and I needed help. It was like she realised I wouldn't day more. "So your husband cooks?" I snorted the water, Neil and cooking. Punjabi men who stayed with their parents don't even know how to fill a glass of water. And here she was discussing cooking!

"No aunty he thinks I make a great biryani." I was itching to confess this to someone. Suddenly the bell rang, "Mrs kaushik is here. Meet her, her daughter is about your age and has competed with mine at the competition." She hushed her tone, "mine beat her daughter 3 times in a row before she started managing it." She walked toward the door.

"Hello Kaushik Ji. How are you?" I looked up to see a thin lady with honey blond chic hair, wearing a skinny jeans and a white shirt. She carried a huge monogrammed bag, the kinds Delhi women love to buy and flaunt. Her solitaries sparkled much like her skin. "Hello aunty, I'm Ishani." I smiled to see her smiling expectantly. I quickly touched her feet and she gleamed. "Namaste beta. Are you new here?" "ohh yes aunty, we just shifted base about two weeks back. I'm from Delhi." I replied over enthusiastically.

She looked like she thrived on expectations and I wanted to impress her. "So where do you work?" It looked like an interview tone. "Well aunty. I worked with a PR agency in Delhi, one of the best one. But I'm on a sabbatical as the Singapore move was sudden on Neil's part. I couldn't get a work permit." She smiled "ohh so you followed him here."

Life without Neil was difficult but being with him didn't make things better. This was just so sad. Here I was sitting with two ladies clearly looking for a mother figure. That is how lost I felt.