Foodie At Heart
Glistening orange jalebis were picked up, crockery dusted and sari pleated.
Everyone was waiting anxiously for his arrival for the ‘Bride Viewing’ ceremony.
Then why couldn’t I just be patient and wait?
I shuffled my way into the kitchen as stealthily as a silk saree’s pleats would allow me and sneaked a piece of the jalebi.
“Sriyaaa!” my mother’s shriek made me gobble the whole thing.
Mouth burning and cheeks stuffed, I ran to the living room for the hundredth “final” touch-up when I saw him. He was dressed casually in a white shirt and blue jeans. I looked at him and scowled.
Why should I be the one decked up?
My mother nudged me transforming my scowl into a pleasing smile.
The tea and jalebis followed. The bright orange seemed to beckon me but my mother had laid a restraining arm on my hand.
After careful crockery inspection by the groom’s family, we were left to talk alone.
I sighed, the torture of it all.
He sat smiling and looking around the room while I decided to inspect the floor for any cracks.
A loud fake cough by a peeping Tom startled us. Clearly, everyone was waiting behind the door to hear us talk.
After some awkward questions about schooling, he hesitated and I panicked. What was he going to say?
He took out something wrapped in a tissue from his side and put it on the table in between us. Even before I opened it, the orange gave it away.
A man who already knew what a foodie I was. I finally smiled.
Twenty minutes and two hot jalebis later, love had struck its sweet chord.
As he walked away with a wave, I thought to myself, a man of few words but who knows just what I need.
I knew many letters would follow until our marriage. He had won my heart through my stomach!