Chapter 32

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Warning: Some ehumm..uhumm..moments after half chapter. Not much..+13 I guess. Pls dont mind.


"What will you have for breakfast, Yazan?" I asked his almost awaken form. I had woke up early this morning as Rukhsana, was on leave today, and I was left to the torment of cooking. Ya Allah bless me.

After fajr, we had decided to take a nap, though I couldnt sleep even a wink of an eye and my mind kept flashing his broken state infront of my eyes and I kept thinking about the conversation we had. The first thing I did in the morning was block Aditya's number and delete it, so that he couldnt call me again.

"Aloo paratha" his reply brought me back to him, now sitting with his back towards me.

Aloo paratha.

I gulped thinking how in the earth I would make it. I thought to tell him that I couldnt make them, but then, he stood and went to the bathroom without even glancing at me. Thinking that maybe he was still upset with me, and what if I refuse and he gets all the more angry, I immediately tied my hair into a pony and headed downstairs for the battle. Between me and aloo paratha.

"Its easy Sarah, you can make it" I muttered to myself, cursing myself for the times when I would ask mamma to make them for me as I loved them and mamma would shot back saying, 'make them yourself'. Then I would grumble and show her my puppy eyes to which she would ramble and make them for me, while I did a victory dance. I had tried it once on mamma's persistence, but then I couldnt roll it as they would start breaking.

"Bismillah" I muttered and started the preparations. Then the most difficult part came, the rolling part. Putting the ball of dough on the surface, I started rolling it slowly, and to my wonder they were coming out nicely. I stopped for a moment and jumped and danced a little and then resumed, but as soon as I rolled it further, it tore from the middle and a gasp left my mouth.

"Ya Allah" I muttered and started it all over again and the same happened. Again. Somehow I managed to make two parathas, that too weren't presentable enough to put on a plate. One had a big hole in the middle while the other looked like as if half eaten by someone and I felt the need to cry out loud.

I turned around ready to go tell him that I couldnt make them, but came face to face with him. There he was standing, leaning on the door, his arms crossed over his chest, lips twitched upwards as he watched me in amusement?

"Uhumm..what are you doing here?" I asked turning around, and tried to hide away the parathas when he came next to me, rolling up his sleeves and pushed me slightly with his elbow. I looked up at him in astonishment, trying to understand whatever he was trying to do, when he took the dough in his hands. But as I took in his appearance, I was lost for a whole minute. White crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, loose black tie hanging around his neck, hair all tamed as his full concentration was on rolling the parathas.

He was busy in his work, and I couldnt fail to notice, how he was doing everything with precision and smoothly. Within five minutes he was done with two perfect parathas and all I could do was look at him with awe and wonder.

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