I woke up before the sun rays entered into our bedroom. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I turned to my left to see my wife. She was curled up in a ball with dried tears staining her face. I knew it. She had been crying all night. Well why wouldn’t she?
I was an idiot to give her such pain.
I shuffled a little closer to her and dropped a kiss on her lips and forehead. Breathing in her scent, I let my fingers trace over her cheeks erasing those stains.
Immediately I then ran to the bathroom for a quick shower. I had to impress her at any cost!
I had to make sure she stayed. It was a selfish thought but I needed her.
After, I reached for a t-shirt and PJ’s hanging in my wardrobe noting how every day my wife used to keep clothes aside while I showered.
I reached for my laptop because with my brain, there was no way I would be able to woe her. That was where the internet came in handy. There are millions of tips on how to woe your wife posted on the internet, perhaps I could use one or two?
I took a note pad and noted down the tips to follow in an ordered to do list. Closing the laptop I kissed my wife once again before checking the list.
Number one was to cook something for your wife. Cooking? What cooking? Till this day I have never cleaned my own plate let alone appreciated her cooking skills. A quick search on the internet again unearthed some recipes. Hurray! I found it. Again, it was noted down.
Poori, Aaloo (potato curry), Halwa, Gulab Jamun, Mango Juice and … uff! Damn it! Already four hours were wasted in just searching and now it was 9:45am. It was time for action.
I immediately ran into the kitchen along with my laptop. First thing to do was to prepare Poori.
For that I needed flour but there were nearly 5 to 6 types of flour there. Again I searched up the necessary flour for Poori on the Internet. Apparently, it could be identified by its smoothness so I started rubbing every flour with my fingers. All seemed to be same to me.
In the process flour migrated to my arms, hair and previously clean t-shirt. Although I noticed, I didn’t feel the need to clean it. Half an hour of detective work later I found the right flour.
I poured some flour into a large dish and added salt and water as instructed. But… oh shit. It was ugly. I mean it was too sticky so I added some more water. Damn it! Now it was too watery. I added some more flour. Now it was too dry. Thus it continued for nearly an hour. I was fed up.
I was about to leave the kitchen when I saw my wife heading towards it. Immediately I stopped her. She looked at me confused.
“Good morning sweetheart. Go and rest, I am cooking something for you,” I said to her.
As soon as I said it. She looked horrified. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. I blushed seeing her expression. She understood that I was a bad cook. I tried once more.
“Sweetheart, go and rest. Don’t worry, I’m following a recipe on my laptop. Now please go,”
She was about to disagree but luckily my son came from his room.
“What happened dad? Why are you covered in flour?” Ansh asked while rubbing his eyes.
I again blushed. Shit! I have not even started cooking but already looked a mess.
“Ansh, I am going to cook something for all of us okay. Now go and sit with your mother,”
Luckily this time she didn’t argue. Instead she picked up Ansh and moved to the living room.
Sighing, I returned to the kitchen to see that the dough had become dry. Again I added water but when I reached over for more flour, it was empty. Oh God, now what?
I took some similar looking flour and added it. Luckily it worked. I started kneading it all. It felt so funny at first but after some time I felt my hands giving up. I took a small portion of the dough and rolled it. When I started making poori sheets they were shapeless. I tried and tried until it became too thin and tore.
Taking a deep breath I checked the time. It was lunch time now. Only because of me my wife and son were hungry. I dialled for Dominos pizza and ordered for three. They’d arrive within 20 minutes. Shit! They were also better than me.
Again I resumed with making the shapes but my son’s voice stopped me. Pizza arrived. I left all the work and cleaned my hands. When I went to the living room I saw my wife feeding my son pizza.
“Sweetheart, I bought it for us. Second one is for you,” I said and gave her the box.
She didn’t take it nor did she look at me. Finally she took it due to my son. Mentally thanking my son I started eating while frequently watching my wife.
“Dad won’t you go to the office today?” asked my son.
My wife stiffened hearing the word office. I know she was thinking about Sanaya. I need to make her feel safe.
“No beta, I took a leave of absence from my office since my two most precious things are at home. And nothing is important than you both,” I said highlighting the word nothing.
She looked calmer but still didn’t look at me.
“Dad did you finish cooking?” my son asked and she looked immediately at me.
I instantly looked down feeling embarrassed.
“Umm…ya…I mean no…I am preparing something for the evening that’s why. Also, no more questions.” I ran away from them but stopped at hearing them laugh.
I heard her laughing along with my son. Immediately I turned to see but it was only my son who was laughing. So I guessed I was hallucinating but promised myself to make it real.
Finally I took out the shapes which didn’t match to the picture on my laptop and lowered them into the burning hot oil. Some of them fell onto the kitchen slab and some onto the plates.
After a struggle, I took out the so called pooris and kept them aside in the hot dish. Why didn’t they look like the ones she makes? Uff. I’d made the pooris now and it was six o’clock in the evening. After toiling all day it seemed I have only made pooris, what about the rest? I struck the remaining items off the list to leave just the mango juice. Good! Now just the mango juice was left and it was very easy to do.
I took four mangoes out of the fridge and cut them each into four pieces (without peeling the seed and skin). I kept these pieces in the juicer jar and switched on the machine. Holy Shit! I forgot to put on the lid. Before I could do anything I was covered in mango juice. I tried it all again ensuring this time I closed the lid. Now it was perfect. I poured it out into three glasses and kept it aside on the slab. Finally I made it: poori with mango juice.
I came out to clean myself up. As soon as I did, my son started laughing hysterically while my wife was looking down on the floor. Feeling shy I went to my room.
Again I heard my wife laughing, but when I turned to check they were in the same position as before. I was disappointed with my hallucinations. Both my wife and son were looking at me as if I was an alien.
“What? Stop looking at me like that and try it,” I said gathering courage. My wife looked down while my son started laughing. Ansh please stop laughing I murmured to myself. You’re making your father look like a clown in front of your mother I said to myself.
I served them both my handmade poori and mango juice. My wife started eating without even looking at me.
“Dad, what is this new dish called? What kind of cuisine did you make today? Also, when did karela juice become a yellow color?” my son asked while eating.
“What? It’s nothing different to what we usually have. It’s poori and mango juice,” I said.
After listening to this he broke out into a laugh while my wife simply ate. Why wasn’t she looking at me? Did I hurt her beyond repair? Will she ever look at me like she used to? But most importantly will she stay with me?
A huge lump formed in my throat at this heavy thought.
After completing her dinner, she waited for Ansh to finish. She wasn’t always like this. She was a chatterbox and every time I looked at her she would blush. Why did she change herself so much? Was our relationship so weak that it could be broken by a Sanaya? Why the hell did I ask for a divorce! Why?
Now there’s no use pondering over the past. Now I must show her that I love her. I must make her feel that she is truly loved.
She was already in our room writing something on the calendar. Once finished she went and laid down on her side of the bed, closing her eyes. I was confused on reading the mark. I didn’t get it why she had marked 1 on today’s date. Then I got it. She’s counting down the ten days.
Did she really want to go away from me? Yes I made a mistake but how could she leave me? I’d bear any punishment save this one. Wiping away my own tears I laid down on my side in order to drift off to sleep. I could tell she was sobbing silently and I would give anything to hold her in my arms and whisper comforting words. However I feared to touch her.
What if she does leave? Only after confirming she’d fallen asleep, I prayed to God. I have 9 days, only 9 days left to make her stay with me.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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