I bite my lips involuntarily. I don’t know how to feel about this. Is that a challenge or the truth? I don’t know.
What I know is that I wasn’t able to survive the storm named Reyansh Carter six years ago.
I doubt I will be able to now.
“I love you, Aisha. Good night.”
Saying this, he goes to sleep, his hand still tight on my waist.
But sleep is the last thing on my mind.
Reyansh Carter is the one that roams instead.
Reyansh Carter
Iwake up before Aisha, and I won’t lie, I missed the sight of seeing her face first thing in the morning.
Her face glows under the morning sunlight seeping through the windows; her hair is a tousled mess, which is why she prefers keeping it in a braid before sleeping, but somehow she forgot last night. I trace her face lightly, careful enough to not wake her up.
I know she was wide awake last night. But knowing that she would try to listen, try to fool me into thinking that she was in fact asleep, I kept going. I kept pouring my heart out to her no matter how vulnerable I felt and no matter how difficult it was for me. God knows if I had done that before, our relationship would not have reached this point.
I know she was holding back her tears. I am so attuned to every single tic of hers. I know her more than she gives me credit for.
Last night was tough, but today will be better. I will make sure of it. If it were up to me, I would chain her to myself. But she would probably bite me and hit me and do what else. Not that I would mind. She would urge me to go back to work, and I can’t say no to my wife.
I am not an idiot.
“Good morning, baby,” I say, kissing her cheek. “Get ready to be swept off your feet.”
I don’t waste time getting to my feet; there’s a lot to be done, and I don’t want to take any chances.
Maawas right. If I want to win her love and trust back, I need to bring the old Reyansh back. I didn’t realize how much I had changed until it was pointed out to me. While I was reserved with everyone, I was always sweet to my girl. She never had to ask. She was an exception in my blank world. The light in the darkness.
With time, I forgot that I was meant to be sweet to her, not because she was my wife, but because all she deserved was that.
Now, it’s time to bring all of that back.
* * *
After quickly finishing my business, I leapt out of the room to set up everything for her. As promised, both of our mom’s left the house for a little bit of time so that when they came back, Aisha would know that it was all me who did it. Not them.
Aisha is a desi girl at heart, but with me, she has had to make quite the sacrifices. And that includes sacrificing her favorite foods because she knew I couldn’t handle all of that. Indian cuisine is amazing, superb at best, and she makes it wonderfully. But my stomach can’t handle all of that, and what I couldn’t enjoy, Aisha let go of. I never stopped her from doing what she liked, but she didn’t like making two different kinds of food in a single household, so I never stopped her.
Now, it’s time to bring that back. I don’t want her to ever let go of anything or anyone she loved—including myself.
So, I askedMaafor the recipe forAloo Parathe,and it seems not too tricky to crack. I just have to keep a healthy balance of spices. So, I got to work quickly. I let the potatoes cool down after boiling before keeping the pan with water on the stove for herchai.While I don’t get why one would contaminate tea withmilk and all the other condiments, I am no one to question her taste and offend her. After all, I am her taste too.
Once the potatoes cooled down, I began peeling them, slowly mashing them into crumbles. It looked messy, but anything made out of love turns out good, right?
I had written down the portions of spices I needed to add because my bland taste buds—as everyone calls them—had no clue what amount of salt and red chili powder went into the mash. Following her instructions, I gave the mixture a good mix after adding a handful of red chili and black pepper to appease Aisha’s taste buds. By now, she must have woken up, so I had to be quick.
How mothers manage all of this is beyond me. Howwomenmanage all of this is beyond my imagination.
I always held immense respect for women, having grown up under the influence of a kind and eloquent woman, but every day I learned a new thing or fact about females, and it grew that respect enormously.
After pouring in the milk in thechaipot, I took a handful of the potato mixture and put it in the middle of a bit of dough before enclosing it carefully so as to not tear it and used the rolling pin to flatten it into aparatha.
My shape didn’t resemble the circular shape that Aisha always makes, but it didn’t look bad either, so I let it be.
