Not That Interested

Chapter 25: The One With A Double Wedding

"Follow your passion. Stay true to yourself. Never follow someone else's path unless you're in the woods and you're lost and you see a path. By all means, you should follow that." ― Ellen DeGeneres

The piles of neglected projects at my office took nearly three days of overtime to complete. Thankfully, Ghauri was being very understanding. Maybe his good mood is directly attributed to the fact that Waleed the Terrible Intern will be leaving us soon.

Mom and Dad told me to head home early on a Wednesday, because they wanted to visit Adiba's place for a certain important meeting. Apparently, Ali would be home alone, and I was supposed to handle kitchen duties.

"It'll be good practice for your future." Mom had lectured.

So I drove home earlier than usual; to find Ali wearing out our living room carpet. He was biting his nails, something he hasn't done since he broke his habit twelve years ago.

I debated voicing one of the sarcastic jibes EMV was mouthing in my brain, but the poor kid looked ready to swallow rat poison at this moment.

"Calm down Ali! It'll be fine. Adiba's family cannot possibly object to you."

I try to console him.

"How do you know? I'm nothing remarkable Mina. Adiba can obviously do much better, if they so wish. What if she already has other proposals?"

"If her parents were seriously considering any other proposal, trust me, I WOULD KNOW....also, hear me well, because I'm probably never gonna say this again; but she could do much worse than you, you idiot." I pat him on the back, and head towards the kitchen. He follows me in.

"You cooking today?" He asks incredulously.

"Yes. You got a problem with that?" I narrow my eyes.

"Just a problem believing it, lazy ass." He settles on one of our counter stool.

"I cook AWESOME stuff Ali! Admit it!"

"Instant Noodles is not cooking food"

"I know how to cook other stuff too..." I start taking out ingredients for a pasta dish.

He snorts; "Baby sister, you once burned water....so excuse me while I order Pizza."

"Go ahead and order some. I'm going to make some kick-ass pasta that is healthy! then you can explain the pizza boxes to Mom"

Our Mom cannot tolerate food wastage. We are supposed to respect food of all type, even if we hate it. One rule that I grew up with; We never order stuff, when there's a fresh meal ready at home. I know it. Ali knows it.

He lets me dabble my hand at a new pasta recipe; which turns out to be pretty delicious.

"I...Take back...every..time...I called you..lazy ass....and klutzy... and..."

Ali says between huge bites. I beam at him.

"Told you I could cook!" I am proud of my small accomplishment. Maybe I'm not as hopeless at domesticity as I thought.

We're in the middle of dinner when I hear my parents let themselves in the house. I throw my brother a worried glance. His face is white as a sheet. Cheeks bulging from the pasta-bite he hasn't swallowed yet.

"Well...then...How was it?" I ask tentatively.

They are expressionless. My heart sinks a little...Poor Ali!

"Well, it started out well enough I suppose....They served us that chocolate Haagen Dasz ice-cream..." Dad starts. He is deliberately drawing this out.