8.2 • Their Stories

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Iram's job as a cook at Khan villa was going quite well. Arzaan loved her food so much that her salary was doubled in the first month only. Only a foodie employer could do that. But she had to reach at work early in the morning and return home late at night, so she began taking afternoon naps in the garden.

That evening she cooked red pepper chicken, cranberry meatballs and white sauce pasta for dinner. She learnt that her boss doesn't like sweets. He liked eating spicy food. After serving him the dinner she returned to the kitchen and ate the portion she kept for herself. Cooking here and then going home and cooking again was tiresome. So she began eating her dinner at work only. It saved her grocery too.

She washing the dishes when Arzaan brought his dishes to the kitchen and put them in the sink before turning to Iram.

“I have invited my three British clients for tomorrow's dinner. Can you cook authentic Indian food for them?” He asked her.

“I will.” She smiled and resumed her work.

“Alright. Good night, Iram.” And he walked out of the kitchen.

Her name felt so soft like a rose petal from his lips.

“He is your employer, Iram. Don't think about him like this.” She scolded herself and continued washing the dishes.

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Iram decided to make five different dishes for the dinner. So she started doing preparation in the afternoon only. She decided to cook Paneer Butter Masala, Dal Makhni, Chicken Korma, Fish Curry, Rajma Chawal. It was way too much for a dinner but she made small portions so that the guests can get a taste of everything.

At the evening when the guests arrived and Arzaan guided them to the dining table, his ears almost exploded hearing Iram's fluency in English language. No one could say she was a tenth pass cook.

About the food, he could not eat half of the dishes because they had dairy products in them. So he stuck to the Rajma Chawal that were finger licking tasty, but he couldn't lick his fingers in front of the guests.

When the guests left and Iram was washing the dishes, he entered the kitchen. Iram glanced his way and continued doing her work, “Do you need something, sir?”

“Not really. I was actually quite surprised.”

Iram looked at him in confusion, “Why?”

“I was surprised at your fluent English. It's hard to believe.”

Iram chuckled while resuming her work, “Everyone say that when they compare my education to my English speaking skills. I studied in a Convent school. And English was my favourite subject. So my English speaking skills were always better than my classmates.”

“Then why didn't you study further?”

Her smile was gone, now replaced by sadness, “My father got arrested. He didn't have the money for my admission. So he decided to steal. And let's just say it didn't go well and he ended up in jail.”

“Where is he now?”

“He died in jail. Cardiac arrest.”

Arzaan kept quiet after that. He didn't know what to say. So he mumbled a good night before heading to his bedroom upstairs.

Iram cleaned the kitchen. She wasn't hungry anymore after talking about her father's arrest. So she went home empty stomach which reminded her of how she spent three days without food after her father's arrest. Those were the darkest days of her life.

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The next day passed in silence. She had engrossed herself in work the entire day. It was around dinner when Arzaan called her and handed her a piece of paper. When she read the content, Iram couldn't help but gasp in surprise and happiness. It was an admission form.

“Now listen to me carefully. The time you get in between breakfast and dinner, use it to study for eleventh standard. And shift to the quarters at the back of the villa so that you don't have to travel at night. Now, which stream do you want to choose?” Iram could listen to him but she was too shocked to reply to his question.

“Iram?” He shook her arm.

“Umm... Humanities.”

“Okay, now fill the form. My PA will submit it tomorrow and arrange books for you. Do you need something else?”

She shook her head, still smiling, “Thank you so much, sir.”

Arzaan just smiled and left.

💞💞💞

The next morning, after cooking breakfast, Iram went back home, packed her stuff and shifted to servant quarters at the back side of villa. Alishba too lived there with her grandmother.

Iram and Alishba were setting up the room in the afternoon and Alishba was telling her about herself and her granny.

“My Dadi is working for Arzaan Bhai's family for last fifty years. And he is very close to Dadi. That's why when he shifted, he called Dadi here. He is also paying for my education.”

“He is a nice person.”said Iram.

“Yeah, but he has suffered a tragedy too. His mother was murdered.”

“What? By whom?” Iram stopped setting the sheets on the single bed.

“I was too young at that time so I don't remember much. But it was a servant who killed her.”

“Oh, that's so sad.”

“But what's more saddening is that his father remarried the very next year. I've heard from Dadi that he had an affair with that woman for a long time. That woman was the reason Arzaan Bhai separated from his father.”

“I used to think only poor people have a tough life. Rich aren't spared from despair either.”

“You are right.”

“Aah, serious talks make me crave Chai. Do you want some?”

“No one says no to Chai.” Alishba smiled and they went to the kitchen.

•••

Question: Chai or Coffee or anything else?

Me: Both

•••

Thoughts 💭

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