1. Behind The Orange Punjabi

Credit for this story line goes to the author of Burning Embers but the writing is all mine. New story, hope y’all enjoy it.

Image result for bismillah pic orange

July 2017

Shenaaz Patel scurried through her house checking doors and windows. Drawing the final curtain, she did a quick last survey before going to find her husband.
She stopped short and simply stared when she reached her kitchen and found him sneakily stealing one of the samoosa’s she had made for the wedding. He held one half eaten one in his right hand and another in his left. Pausing for a moment to admire the cuteness of his naughty, mischievous grin, made even more comical by the crumbs stuck in the corner of his mouth, she cleared her throat and strode into the kitchen.

Babu jumped hard in shock. Getting caught red-handed was not on his agenda and now… He couldn’t help but wince. Oh, he was in for it. But those samoosa’s… Ah! They were heavenly. He quickly shoved the last of his half-eaten samoosa in his mouth and slipped the extra one in his pocket when his lovely wifey wasn’t looking.

Shenaaz hadn’t moved from her previous spot ans she simply stood there and stared him down with her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Care to tell me what you are doing?” He stared at her like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar and her stern composure threatened to break.

“Eish…um…uh…it was…I mean…I only had one!” He finally burst out.

“We had this discussion before Babu,” she stated primly, “Samoosa’s are bad for your health. You need to stop acting like I deprive you. I let you have as many as you want on Fridays.”

Babu’s only response was a guilty sheepish grin. Shenaaz sighed and sent him to pack the car, busying herself in resetting the savoury platter he had messed up.

She smiled pleasantly at him when she saw that he was done packing the car and handed him the last savoury platter. “Go ahead and wait for me in the car, I’m just going to head in to fetch my handbag and purdah.”

“I’ll come with you to get it,” Babu offered earnestly.

“Don’t worry. Besides we’re running late and we can’t be late for Zuhairah’s daughters wedding. How bad that will look!”

Spinning on her heel, Shenaaz rushed back into a house and walked briskly into the deserted nursery. A pang of sorrow hit but she brushed it aside and determinedly walked up to the toy chest.

After a careful, furtive glance around to confirm that she truly was alone, she knelt down and pushed the right hand corner of the toy chest. A small panel in the corner swung open to reveal a tiny keypad.

In a smooth, practiced motion, she quickly punched in the numbers 9…3…5…7…1 and grabbed the state-of-the-art iphone that lay there in the compartment that it fitted in so perfectly, there was no doubt it was custom-made for it.

Swiftly closing it, she slipped the phone into the folds of her punjabi and exited the nursery. Grabbing her bag and niqaab, she checked her watch as she left her house. ‘2 minutes and 28 seconds, not bad at all!’ she mused.

She quickly walked to the car door but was beaten to it by Babu, who hurried to open the door for her.

“I’ve told you many times that this is completely unnecessary. I am more than capable of opening my own doors. I would appreciate it if you utilised your energy’s on something more useful,” she stated primly as Babu started the car.

Babu hid his grin, 32 years and he was still having this same argument with his wife. Not that it got old, it was fun hearing her come up with all her excuses.”But buttercup, that wouldn’t be romantic now, would it?”

“Sure it would. It would be much better than this! I mean you could like help to pack your laundry or even do the dishes or something like that. Now that is sensible, practical and I’d love it. I have hands and it really doesn’t benefit me in any way for you to open my doors.”

“You’re not understanding me love.. It wouldn’t be the same. That’s not romantic. That’s something completely different.”

“I don’t get how. It’s the same thing! You want to help me, that’s why you opening the door for me, so helping me with these other stuff is exactly the same,” an exasperated Shenaaz reasoned.

“Come I explain to you the difference buttercup, say I did the dishes, what would be your reaction?”

“I”d be amazed and happy and over the moon. I’d simply love it.”

“Now if I did this,” in a smooth, sudden movement, Babu grabbed Shenaaz’s hand and after pressing it to his lips, interwined it tightly with his left hand and let them rest together on the center console in between the two of them, “Now, what is your reaction?”

A fumbling Shenaaz struggled to hurriedly lower her niqaab, desperate to hide the flaming red that had covered her entire face. She pressed her free hand to her burning cheeks and fought to regain her composure as Babu smirked knowingly. It’s been 32 yrs and still his wife tried to hide her blush from him. Well, it never worked then, and it didn’t work now. He could just see she was blushing. Even if he didn’t see her cheeks, by one look at her wide, heated eyes and he just knew!

“I’d say that now you are being beyond impractical, as you have not only wasted your own time but you have hindered one of my hands. The inefficiency and inep….”

Shenaaz gasped as Babu lifted and kissed her hand once more, stopping her blustering speech while Babu grinned away to himself. Score! Babu: 215.. Shenaaz: 232. Only 17 more to catch up!

They drove in silence for a little while before Shenaaz smiled victoriously and piped up, “Pass me the samoosa Babu. It really was sweet of you to keep one for me.”

An out-smarted Babu groaned as he passed over the samoosa that he’d been so sure he’d successfully sneaked into his pocket, to his too-clever wife. He was once again 18 points behind again and by the satisfied smile on his wife’s face, she knew it. Oh she definitely knew it!

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13 thoughts on “1. Behind The Orange Punjabi”

      1. So you’re 25 then?
        HAHA JUST KIDDING!! ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚
        I’m not even gonna dare guess your age because whenever I’ve guessed bloggers’ ages in the past… well, let’s just say I guessed (quite) terribly. ๐Ÿ™ˆ๐Ÿ˜‚

        Like

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