Chronicles of Life

#chap58 #chroniclesoflife #Sagas_by_Irvika #sweetlovestory

What followed was a passionate, wild session of love making, which showed her what he was capable of. It was as if, he had reigned his emotions, held them in check for her sake.
He said huskily, “The way you look today… my god Shru! It’s beyond imagination. So very sexy! I had loved what you had worn on our first night, but this is beyond amazing.”

Thereafter, there was no scope for any verbal communication. Their bodies were busy communicating with each other, each revering the other; one more blatantly, the other a bit hesitantly, learning along the way, trying to leave her inhibitions behind.

To be continued….

The feeling of bliss had engulfed them entirely. Even though they had been together for quite long owing to the almost year-long courtship period, the wonderful feeling of finally belonging to each other, in every sense of the word, took them to a world which belonged only to them.

The next morning Shruti was on a mission. She had learnt how to make carrot parathas from her mom and had decided to prepare it for breakfast. However, when she went in the kitchen, she felt lost. She grated the carrots, took the flour, trying to judge the proportion for so many members. Then, she tried hunting for green-chilly ginger paste in the freezer, but couldn’t find any, and was stuck. At that moment, her mother in law came and inquired. Shruti mentioned, “I want to make parathas but cant find the green chilly paste.”
Mrs Shah said in an exasperated tone, “So what? You can always substitute with whatever ingredients are available.” And to Shruti’s horror, she added some other masalas. This moved her to tears as she had thought of making something entirely different. She somehow managed to knead the dough and prepared the parathas. As soon as Preksha took one bite, she commented, “This tastes like thepla. Just that you have added carrots to it.” Shruti who was anyways on the verge of tears, felt choked that her very first attempt had gone awry.

She somehow maintained a semblance of taking it in her stride but after a while, went in her room and burst into tears. She had anyways been wary of it and the way things had turned out, added to her trauma. Atharva came in and embraced her, trying to pacify her. In between sobs, she explained how it had all gone wrong. He hugged her, and said soothing words. After a while, she calmed down and tried to regain her composure.

After sometime, she entered the kitchen and gingerly asked Preksha, “How may I help bhabhi?”
Preksha replied, “Please soak dal and rice for the lunch. I will make the sabzi.”
Shruti was in a fix, as she couldn’t remember dal fry was exactly a mix of which dals and in what proportion. She didn’t want to sound like a fool and ask Preksha. She was fidgeting, thinking what to do as she put the rice in a bowl. Just then, Isha called her and Preksha went out. Shruti felt helpless and went in her room and called her mom immediately. As soon as she picked up the call, Shruti blurted, “Mumma.. quickly tell me. Which dals are supposed to be mixed for dal fry?”
Jyotiji guided her, “Tuver, Moong and a lil bit of chana dal.”
Shruti heaved a sigh and disconnected. She went in the kitchen rummaging through all the containers and then was perplexed again. She had been so sure that she remembered which one is called what, but at that point of time couldn’t understand a thing. She felt helpless again, took her mobile in the kitchen, and was thankful that there was no one there. She opened the cabinets and stood in front, as she tried to understand whatever her mom was explaining and finally managed it. She heaved a sigh of relief, as if she had accomplished a big task. After that, it was a bit easy as she helped only to chop and Preksha did the tempering. Although this time, she observed very keenly trying to memorise exactly how to go about it.

Shruti spent her day trying to get things organised in her room. It was a task for her, considering that she had never bothered about it till then. But one look at Atharva’s wardrobe and she was compelled to do it. His wardrobe was literally overflowing with clothes. In the afternoon, when he called up to chat with her, she mentioned, “Just how many denims can one have? That too only two shades, dark blue and regular one. This is crazy!”
Atharva chuckled, “Why are you bothering with it? Rehne de, shall see later.”
She explained, “I was trying to put the clothes that had come from the laundry but all I could see is mountains of clothes. Kidhar rakhu? You better sort it out over the weekend.”
Atharva, never the one  interested in it, tried to evade the topic, “Shru… chalo cya. Shall talk later.”