Risen from dust

Ten

On that scorching weekend, the temperature soared, making it the hottest day of the year. The kitchen felt like an oven as Mariam stood amidst the sizzling pots and pans, determined to create a culinary masterpiece for their esteemed guest who would be arriving later that evening. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, but her passion for cooking fueled her determination.

"Harris, could you please run to the market and grab the fresh ingredients for the salad?" Mariam called out from the kitchen, her hands covered in flour . "She'll be here in an hour, and I want everything to be in place by then. Pretty please."

Harris turned to face her, "You think adding the word 'pretty' before 'please' will magically compel me to drop everything and rush off to the market at your command?" he responded with a playful smirk.

Mariam chuckled, knowing she was caught in her own attempt to sweeten the request. "Ludicrous," she admitted, "But seriously, we need those ingredients.

Finally surrendering to Mariam's culinary prowess, Harris said, "Fine, fine, I'll go and get them."

With a sense of victory, Mariam wiped her hands on her apron. "Thank you, Harris. You're a lifesaver."

"Sheesh, no need to be cranky! Women," Harris teased, making his way towards the door.

"Men," Mariam shot back, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Their banter filled the air with warmth and familiarity, a testament to their strong bond. As Harris prepared to leave, Mariam couldn't help but appreciate their playful exchanges. Despite the challenges and occasional disagreements, their love and shared sense of humor always prevailed.

Harris chuckled, enjoying their lighthearted moments. "I love it when you get provoked so effortlessly," he admitted with a fond smile.

"And I love it when you're out of the house, shopping for vegetables and salad dressings," Mariam replied, playfully waving him off. "Allah Hafiz."

"Harris!" Mariam called after him. Knowing he was joking but still showing him a little tantrum.

Harris turned around, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What is it now, my dear?"

Mariam couldn't help but let out a playful sigh. "Don't forget to get the ripest tomatoes and the crunchiest cucumbers. We need them to create the perfect salad."

Harris placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be deeply offended. "Oh, the pressure!" 

With a wave and a wink, Harris disappeared out the door, leaving Mariam to her culinary endeavors. She took a deep breath, feeling a renewed surge of energy. She knew that her skills in the kitchen would impress their guest, and she was determined to create a memorable dining experience. As Harris ventured to the market, he couldn't help but reflect on their decision to invite their guest. At times, doubts crept into his mind, wondering if they had rushed into it too quickly. However, as he reminisced about the delicious halwa he had enjoyed in the bustling food bazaars of Gujrat, he felt a sense of excitement. The chacha, or uncle, who owned the halwa store had always treated him like family, showering him with extra servings and affection. Those memories brought a smile to Harris's face, reinforcing his belief that their decision to host their guest was the right one.

As the clock struck seven in the evening, the vibrant street came alive with illuminated shops and the tantalizing aroma of sizzling barbecues. The air was filled with the symphony of children's cries, begging for overpriced and seemingly useless toys from eager vendors. Harris took in the bustling scene, cherishing every sight that greeted him at every corner. The street was a sensory overload, a paradise for food lovers, a sanctuary for men seeking a customary getaway, and an ideal spot for families to enjoy a perfect night out. The sizzling skillets and the rhythmic pounding sounds of a Tukka Tukk being cooked filled the air. Harris watched as a swarm of individuals meandered through this culinary haven, their senses overwhelmed by the perfection of what lay before them. The grills were adorned with an incredible variety of dishes, fresh off the coals. Seekh kebabs, succulent tikkas, and creamy malai boti were served alongside freshly baked tandoori naans—whether it was roghni naan, garlic naan, or kalonji naan, the choices were endless. And for those with a sweet tooth, there were irresistible delights that beckoned. Who could resist the perfectly curved jalebis or the classic thoothee, adorned with a delicate coating of chandni, resembling silver? Amidst the enticing aromas, Harris couldn't help but hear a grumble emanating from his own stomach. Standing amidst the vibrant whirlwind of activities that defined Food Street, Harris found himself surrounded by skilled chefs in their aprons and tall hats, skillfully flipping tikka seekhs until the meat turned a perfect shade of gold. Rushed servers expertly balanced dish upon dish as they hurriedly served eagerly awaiting customers, each one anticipating their own slice of culinary heaven. It felt like his very own desi version of 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs,' albeit without the meat falling from the sky.