20-03-2019, 03:41 PM
Indian Wife & Construction Guys Ch. 05.2
I walked out of the hut and followed Sajid as Fatima had told me. She seemed nice and kind and the only one not gawking at me or hating me. Sajid was chatting casually with his kids who were hanging out in the front of the house. He saw me walk up and smiled.
"Kids, meet Purva aunty."
"Abba, is she a new ammi (mother)?" one of the precocious daughters, about ten years old, asked.
Sajid just looked at me and smiled.
"We are getting that question a lot today!" Then he looked back at the girl and said. "No, she is not another ammi. Yet. But your abba does like her a lot."
"I like her too. She has pretty grey eyes." the little girl said.
I smiled at the cute little girl. But this was too much for me to handle. I could not socialize happily with his numerous kids like this. My entire situation was a bit too much, but this one, interacting with his kids, was particularly too much.
I walked back inside the hut. And into the tiny kitchen in the back. It looked like a stone age version of the kitchen at my home. The three wives were doing different tasks, squatting in different parts of the tiny space.
"Can I help?" I asked.
"Oh...you can..." Fatima started saying.
But Zahra cut her off loudly.
"We don't need your help! We three are sufficient for everything. Almost everything."
I stood quietly stunned by the insult. She was probably justified in being hostile to me. But I wasn't used to such interactions.
"Aapa, she can chop the onions." Fatima said, calling Zahra by the Urdu word for elder sister.
Zahra just grunted and looked away, Fatima nodded and smiled. I took that as a yes and reached out for the onions and a knife. And started chopping them. The tiny kitchen was hot and tense, and not just because of the awkward situation.
"How old is she?" Zahra said to Shabnam.
"I don't know." the youngest wife responded.
"I am 32." I said.
"Younger than even Komal." she derisively said without looking at me.
I later learned that Komal was her eldest daughter, who was now married and lived in another village. She was 35 years old. Which meant that when Zahra and Sajid had sex to conceive her, I was a few years from being born. And here I was, acting like his de facto fourth wife. Couldn't really blame Zahra for being upset.
"Let it go, aapa." said Fatima, my only non-enemy in there.
I finished chopping the onions soon and handed them over. The cooking was in full swing. I was told to stir a pot of meat that looked a little like mutton, but also looked a little different. Shabnam was making rotis.
"Let's go set up things outside for lunch." Fatima said to me.
I nodded and was relieved to leave the tense and hot kitchen. We laid out the plates and some thin seating mats. Fatima went outside and called everyone in for lunch. It was a weird and new experience for me, sitting on the floor with my legs crossed in that tiny space, eating food from aluminium plates. With Sajid, his three wives and 5 of his nine children. Looking at the kids, I missed my Apu and wondered if he was having lunch too.
Lunch was a mostly silent affair, except for the little kids filling in their father about all that they had been up to. He would nod or hmmm once in a while, but it did not seem like he was really listening. Not exactly father of the year material. Such a stark contrast from the loving rapport that Tarun had with Apu.
"You kids, wash your hands, and then go to the fields to play. I don't want you near the house for a while." Sajid announced after everyone was done eating.
The kids seemed accustomed to such commands because they all nodded and obeyed right away in a way Apu never obeyed me. Soon, it was just us adults in the room and I thought Sajid had sent them away so we could talk about this situation. But there was no actual conversation. Zahra started gathering the dirty plates. I felt obliged to help her and started doing so, but she shot me a hostile glance that made me stop right away.
"Where do I wash my hands?" I asked the room.
"I'll take care of that." Sajid said, slid over to me and grabbed my right hand.
And then he started licking it clean in a very obviously lewd away. I blushed as my quinquagenarian lover's tongue ran over my fingers in full view of his three wives. Zahra just snorted in disgust and went to the kitchen. Shabnam threw me a hostile look and followed her. Fatima though was sitting there licking her own fingers and watching us with interest.
I walked out of the hut and followed Sajid as Fatima had told me. She seemed nice and kind and the only one not gawking at me or hating me. Sajid was chatting casually with his kids who were hanging out in the front of the house. He saw me walk up and smiled.
"Kids, meet Purva aunty."
"Abba, is she a new ammi (mother)?" one of the precocious daughters, about ten years old, asked.
Sajid just looked at me and smiled.
"We are getting that question a lot today!" Then he looked back at the girl and said. "No, she is not another ammi. Yet. But your abba does like her a lot."
"I like her too. She has pretty grey eyes." the little girl said.
I smiled at the cute little girl. But this was too much for me to handle. I could not socialize happily with his numerous kids like this. My entire situation was a bit too much, but this one, interacting with his kids, was particularly too much.
I walked back inside the hut. And into the tiny kitchen in the back. It looked like a stone age version of the kitchen at my home. The three wives were doing different tasks, squatting in different parts of the tiny space.
"Can I help?" I asked.
"Oh...you can..." Fatima started saying.
But Zahra cut her off loudly.
"We don't need your help! We three are sufficient for everything. Almost everything."
I stood quietly stunned by the insult. She was probably justified in being hostile to me. But I wasn't used to such interactions.
"Aapa, she can chop the onions." Fatima said, calling Zahra by the Urdu word for elder sister.
Zahra just grunted and looked away, Fatima nodded and smiled. I took that as a yes and reached out for the onions and a knife. And started chopping them. The tiny kitchen was hot and tense, and not just because of the awkward situation.
"How old is she?" Zahra said to Shabnam.
"I don't know." the youngest wife responded.
"I am 32." I said.
"Younger than even Komal." she derisively said without looking at me.
I later learned that Komal was her eldest daughter, who was now married and lived in another village. She was 35 years old. Which meant that when Zahra and Sajid had sex to conceive her, I was a few years from being born. And here I was, acting like his de facto fourth wife. Couldn't really blame Zahra for being upset.
"Let it go, aapa." said Fatima, my only non-enemy in there.
I finished chopping the onions soon and handed them over. The cooking was in full swing. I was told to stir a pot of meat that looked a little like mutton, but also looked a little different. Shabnam was making rotis.
"Let's go set up things outside for lunch." Fatima said to me.
I nodded and was relieved to leave the tense and hot kitchen. We laid out the plates and some thin seating mats. Fatima went outside and called everyone in for lunch. It was a weird and new experience for me, sitting on the floor with my legs crossed in that tiny space, eating food from aluminium plates. With Sajid, his three wives and 5 of his nine children. Looking at the kids, I missed my Apu and wondered if he was having lunch too.
Lunch was a mostly silent affair, except for the little kids filling in their father about all that they had been up to. He would nod or hmmm once in a while, but it did not seem like he was really listening. Not exactly father of the year material. Such a stark contrast from the loving rapport that Tarun had with Apu.
"You kids, wash your hands, and then go to the fields to play. I don't want you near the house for a while." Sajid announced after everyone was done eating.
The kids seemed accustomed to such commands because they all nodded and obeyed right away in a way Apu never obeyed me. Soon, it was just us adults in the room and I thought Sajid had sent them away so we could talk about this situation. But there was no actual conversation. Zahra started gathering the dirty plates. I felt obliged to help her and started doing so, but she shot me a hostile glance that made me stop right away.
"Where do I wash my hands?" I asked the room.
"I'll take care of that." Sajid said, slid over to me and grabbed my right hand.
And then he started licking it clean in a very obviously lewd away. I blushed as my quinquagenarian lover's tongue ran over my fingers in full view of his three wives. Zahra just snorted in disgust and went to the kitchen. Shabnam threw me a hostile look and followed her. Fatima though was sitting there licking her own fingers and watching us with interest.
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