Strings Attached

~Chapter 16~

Later, we go for some biryanis to Salford and I eat like a homeless man, completely to my heart's content. Molly never learned to cook it, so it's been days since I had some.

Seth loves his biryani a little less spiced and I can't say he's been a fan since his first try but he's becoming a pro at eating it in five minutes flat. While I, on the other hand, like to take things slow, savoring each spoonful for as long as I can. And so, it can take me anywhere between thirty minutes to an hour to finish a plate. Poor guy has to sit and drink gallons of water to bide the time.

Anyway, by the time we get out of the place, it's much darker and Seth's pissed. "I can't believe you wasted all that time on food, and only a plate of that too!" He reprimands me, his face set into a frown.

"Sorry man. It'd been a long time since I had any desi food," I try placating him a bit by appealing to his sympathy and he softens slightly. "But you hated it, remember? Because it reminded you of your douchebag of a dad, and the way he literally forced your mum to learn to make it," he reasons. I had no idea he remembered my sob story in that much detail.

A flash of days past runs in front of my mind's eyes, of my mom, who had absolutely no background of those exotic spices or dishes, sweating it out in the kitchen, trying to perfect some biryani or qorma whenever my dad put it in his mind to have some. And the tyranny that was unleashed on her when the food came out a bit bland or lacking in some goddamned spice.

As the picture fades from my eyes, I realize Seth's been talking all this while and I ask him to repeat himself. Understanding the effect mentioning mum has on me, he apologizes and asks what my douchebag of a dad is really doing nowadays?

"I hope he's not meddling into your affairs like always," he says with derision. "I think his own affairs are coming to a head, Seth," I respond in all seriousness, after pondering a while. "Really?" He's shocked but then chuckles happily.

"Karma is getting to him, bro. Don't you start sympathizing with him now." The lad eyes me disapprovingly, seeing as a frown mars my features.

"Maybe it is, bro, maybe, it is. But I can't help feeling angry at fate. It's turned him into a mere shadow of his old self, reducing him to a 'nobody'. So much so--," I pause mid-sentence and side-step to let a speeding bicyclist pass through. We've been briskly walking ever since we came out of the restaurant, our motorbikes left far behind in the restaurant's parking lot. We've turned our way towards the residential part of Salford.

"So much so that even the mama Brooks mocks him now." Seth sneers sarcastically. "I can't say that I'm sorry for that ba*tard," he comments. He doesn't really understand my point of view. Maybe he never would. Because I've only fed him hate that I had for him, all these years. He hasn't seen me proud of him, or even love him as a son does a father.

However, before I can say anything, I see someone running towards us, huffing and panting with fatigue. "Stop!"

"Stop that man!"

It's a girl. And when she comes a bit closer, we see that she's dressed head to toe in black.