Junooniyat

CHAPTER 70

Maryam Chaudhary
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I groaned and stretched my arms, yawning. I struggled to turn under the weight holding me in place. I turned my head and saw Danish's naked chest in my view. I lifted my head to find him sleeping peacefully, his heavy legs draped over mine, causing me to groan at their weight. Running my fingers through his silky hair, I noticed it was even was even silkier than mine. His long lashes and innocent pout in his sleep contrasted with the thought that he was only innocent while sleeping, otherwise a bastard.

As he sleeps peacefully, I can't help but admire his striking features. He is undeniably handsome, with thick eyebrows, long lashes and jet black hair that frames his face perfectly. His broad shoulders and defined six-pack abs only add to his allure. But what truly captivates me are his mesmerizing green eyes, which drew in from the moment I first saw them. Though I may never admit it to him, his beauty is truly captivating even in his slumber.

As I gazed at myself, I noticed I was not in my usual clothes but rather in a t-shirt. Trying to move my legs, I realized I was wearing the leggings I had on last night with my white kurta. Turning to look at him, I grabbed his hair tightly, causing him to groan in his sleep. I refused to let go of his hair, angered by the fact that he had changed my shirt without permission. I slapped him hard to which he again groaned in his sleep while trying to open his eyes.

I stood up from the bed and ran into the closet to grab a pair of jeans, kurta, along with a scarf. Then, I headed to the bathroom for a shower and brushed my teeth. After finishing up, I blow-dried my hair and applied some lip balm before leaving my hair down.

As I turned to look at the bed, I noticed it was empty. Confused, I searched the room but couldn't find Danish anywhere. Deciding to step outside, I entered the living room to find him chatting with a elderly man. Looking around, I noticed there were a lot of new faces, including his brothers. Among them were three women and a girl around my age, sitting on the couch and engaged in conversation.

"Assalamualaikum!", the girl greeted me with a smile on her face.

"Walaikum assalam", I replied with a smile as well. She was really cute with her chubby cheeks, long hair and glasses.

"My name is Maria, nice to meet you bhabhi", she said, pulling me towards other ladies.

"Assalamualaikum!", I greeted the rest of them while playing with my fingers. I hated meeting new people and didn't know how to act around them.

"Walaikum assalam, yahan aao beta hamare saath baito", a woman with a shawl around her shoulder said, patting the spot next to her. I walked over and sat beside her, feeling a bit awkward in the silence that followed.

"Kya naam hai beta aapka?", the woman asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Maryam", I whispered, glancing at an old woman sitting across from me. Her intense gaze made me feel uncomfortable. I was feeling pretty uncomfortable with this old lady; she was giving me a disapproving look and I had no idea why.

"Ghar par bhi yahi waqt par uthti ho kya tum?", she asked in a stern voice. I couldn't help but feel embarrassed as I replied, "nahi, university jana hota hai na toh main saath baje uthti hu", it was 9o'clock now and I felt terrible for sleeping in so late.

"Jao hamare liye nashta banao", she ordered still glaring at me. Feeling tears welling up in my eyes, I couldn't understand why she was so rude to me. Was it because I slept too late? I walked into the kitchen, trying to hold back my tears and looked around. The kitchen was huge and painted in a beautiful biege color.

The stove was placed in the middle, giving it a warm and inviting look. I stood there, unsure of what to do as I had never cooked anything before in my life, except for a disastrous attempt at making biryani for my parents anniversary. It ended up getting burned.

Just then, the lady with the shawl walked into the kitchen and chuckled, "let me help you", I couldn't help but smile at her kind gesture as she guided me through the kitchen and showed me where everything was.

I stood there, looking at the dough for making rotis and feeling completely clueless. I had never made them before and I didn't even know where to start. But then the shawl lady, came over to me. "Add water in the dough", she instructed, "and start mixing it".

I followed her directions, but the dough was getting too sticky, so I added more dough to it.

"Tum jao, paneer kato main aata goondh dungi", she said, I smiled at her and turned to the chopping board to cut the paneer into cubes.

"You can call me chachi jaan", she said with a warm smile as she continued making the dough for the rotis. I replied with an 'okay' and finished cutting the paneer. Just then, the old lady entered the kitchen and started scolding us.

"Tum kya kar rhi ho yaha maine iss larki se kaha tha nashta banane ko", she shouted, making me bite my lips nervously. Chachi jaan quickly jumped to our defence.

"Main madad kar rhi thi", she said as she worked on the dough.

"Kya maine ijazat di thi", she asked as she entered the kitchen. I was taken aback by her abrupt tone. Confused, I made my way towards the stove as she instructed me to make rotis. I grabbed the dough and started rolling it into round shapes.

However, the lady was not satisfied and demanded, "I need perfect round rotis", it felt like I was back in school taking a math test, with the teacher scrutinizing my every move. The dough kept sticking to the rolling pin, making it difficult for me to make perfect rotis. The lady then left the kitchen, leaving me with the task of finishing the rotis in next five minutes. As I worked frantically, the sweat started forming on my forehead. I couldn't help but wonder why this lady was so harsh and demanding.

"Chachi jaan, please help me", I said, looking at the sticky dough on the rolling pin.

"You go make the curry", she replied, taking the rolling pin from my hand with a chuckle.

"But I don't know how to make paneer curry", I said, feeling overwhelmed as I looked at the array ingredients laid out on the kitchen counter.

"I will tell you", she replied calmly, her hands expertly rolling our the rotis for our meal.

As I watched her work, she began to explain the process of making paneer curry. First, she heated oil in a pan and added cumin seeds, chopped onions, and ginger-garlic paste. Once the onions were golden brown, she added tomatoes, turmeric, coriander, cumin and chilli powder, letting it all cook down into a fragrant masala.

Next, she added cubes of paneer and let them simmer in the sauce until they were infused with flavour. Finally, she garnished the dish with fresh coriander leaves and served it alongside the freshly made rotis.

"Thank you, chachi jaan", I said, hugging her tight.

"Your welcome, beta", she said, pecking my forehead warmly.

"Let's take the dishes outside now", she said as she took a box from the fridge.

"The lady always needs some sweet after food", she said, taking out rasgullas from the box and putting them in a bowl. I took the paneer bowl and walked towards the dining table to set it.

As I walked out, I saw everyone seated at the dining table, eagerly awaiting their meal. Placing the paneer bowl down, I turned and headed back to the kitchen to fetch rice, roti and rasgullas for the old mean lady.

I placed all the dishes on the table and took a seat next to Danish, who looked handsome in his Armani suit. He then held my hand under the table, and although I didn't react, the old lady near by glared at me, leaving me feeling conflicted about how to respond.

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Sorry for the mistakes 🤗🤗

🥀His smell, his voice, his eyes, his hair, him❤🥀

Allah hafiz 💕💕