Marriage For Convenience (completed)

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

With all the funny married life jokes in the market about how men are being harassed by their wives, I blame the men because the biggest solution to a peaceful married life is DISCOVERED

Yay!!

My inner doing a catwalk wearing a sash that says ‘witty husband’

Well I’d reveal my secret ingredient for my peaceful married life.

You can thank me later 

And it is silence

Silence is Golden.

“Raj please try and keep the restroom door closed”

Silence..

“Raj please switch the conditioning to a higher temperature”

Silence

“Raj you are impossible” this was my favorite because she actually scratched her hair when I used her comb.

Why are girls so obsessed with the concept of personalized combs?

Well I was silent.

This one actually ROCKS

“Wet towels on the bed Raj?

When are you going to grow up, jerk head” she mumbled the curse part

Silence..

The look on her face priceless…

 Sometimes the ordeal feels so entertaining that I long to go home and irritate her

Like today

My inner doing summersaults at the entertainment he gets at her annoyed sighs, the neck shrugging that she does meaning ‘its useless dealing with me’

Ha ha! I love that

Well I am done with my work and am home early so she’d be working in the kitchen helping my mom to cook and I am going to frustrate the hell out of her asking her to get one thing or other and disturb her, annoy her, make her beg for..

Begging..

My inner dilated his eyes, his expressions naughty and grin bigger than his jaw 

But he is an ****.

You all are aware of the curse words.

My happiness was soaring low when there was no reply to the knock so I used my finger imprints to open the finger locking door, I could have done it otherwise but my darling mom once said “Son coming home, received by mom is happiest moment of mom’s life” since then I have been knocking the door.

My inner smiled as he sipped from the Hallmark mug that had ‘Best Son’ imprinted on it.

I pouted when the house was empty, no gran ma, no mom

Great there’s gonna be a huge dent on my dad’s bank account.

No wonder she was showing the selfie she had purposely taken with her friend and hers; displaying the string diamond necklace.

I wonder what had she bribed to gran ma for being her partner in shopping.

Damn my room is locked from inside.

Gosh only if the magical ingredient silence could work here.

Married life sucks, S.U.C.K.S. in capital

Why do I have a de-ja-vu feeling in this?

So I went for the reverse thing

I started knocking

1 knock 2 knocks… 3 knocks..

No reply

I banged harder 

1 bang 2 bangs 3 bangs…

No reply

Is she reversing the silent treatment to me?

No way I am Raichand I am unaffected and I can break all the silences.

I started kicking the door loudly every kick ending up with thud.

No reply.

Now things were aggravated.

“Damn open the door Pari”

Silence..

“Pari please I need to use the washroom”

Silence..

“Pari this is no longer funny”

Silence

Whoa she was good at it

Better than me.

My inner coiling over the competition

However now I felt worried, some gut feeling in my stomach said something was wrong.

I kicked the door a bit harder like Jason Stathan from transporter or Daya from Indian popular series CID using the pressure of my shoulder and bingo!

Yay yay yay, my inner danced in circles forming an o with his hands on the front happy that my gym bills have finally paid

Yes the door was open.

Strangely there was no sign of Pari anywhere

But Pari was there; I had heard her earlier

Again the door was surely locked from inside

Few things were fallen on the floor too.

Yep something was definitely wrong.

I rushed to the washroom and there she was 

Coiled on the floor hugging her knees shifted to the corner of the tiled floor wet and drenching, not with water but sweat, tears flowing freely as she shivered, her eyes red but at a distant not apprehending to what she was looking at.

“Pari” I called.

And she coiled further.

“Pari “ I repeated 

“No no go away” please she shouted like a maniac.

Pari. 

“NO” she cried, “please go”

“Its me you are safe” I tried to calm her but she started showing her tantrums throwing her hands shifting further.

“DON’T, don’t You Dare” she barked her voice a mixture of fear and antagonism

I tried to hold her shoulder but she started getting violent kicking everything in front of her coiling her arms again in her own veil that she wore over her white and blue Indian dress.

“Pari” I said softly as I bent on my knees to face her directly.

“Pari it’s me Raj. I wont hurt you.” I made sure that she is giving me the right eye contact.

I pulled the veil that was tangled between her hands; she flinched

‘Did I touch you?” I asked softly

and she nodded.

Thank god I prayed internally for her reaction.

Slowly I wiped her face with towel on the rack.

“See did I touch you?”

She nodded a bit calmer than earlier..

I picked her slip-ons that she was wearing half and half of it was folded under her feet and slid them slowly from beneath her.

She jerked behind so I asked again “Did I touch you?”

She breathed in silently nodding again

“Now try to get up.” I commanded. She did not reciprocate but I knew she was listening.

“You have to and I promise no touching. I promise” I kept my greys on her darks and she batted her eyelids once understanding.

Slowly she pushed herself up on the floor trying her best not to slip.

I rested my hand on the small of her back  and she stiffened “its alright, no touching” I lifted my hands in the air and she walked ahead.

I helped her with new pair of clothes for she stood still watching the water dripping from her clothes “You can change. Lock the door if you want” I paused scared to what if she doesn’t open up again “But make sure you open it once you are done.”

She simply stared back motionless.

“Am I clear?” I said politely but with the edge of authority. “You will? Please answer with a yes or no.”

‘Y..yes..” she stammered licking her lips which though were wet but the feel of it said that she was parched up, her throat dry.”

I walked out of the room only to return with coffee and cookies that she loved; I noticed her having a pick everyday during the bed tea.

She was quite composed by the time I entered for she was sitting crossed legged on the bed, the smudginess of her liner now gone replaced with a clean look.

Pulling her feet inside the flairy bottoms composing herself she returned to her own chirpy self “Wow Do I smell coffee? You can cook?” her eyes impressed.

“I tried not to poison both of us with the dark liquid.” I smiled making her giggle.

God did I love the voice of it?

My inner too smiling contently staring at her like she was an angel fallen from above.

Her eyes widened appreciatively at the sight of chocolate cookies as she picked one from the tray hungrily, my heart skipping a beat at that.

“You good?” I asked.

She ignored and was staring at the coffee mug stirring it continuously debating over something in her head.

“What happened?” I asked, “Are you okay? Wanna share about ear..lier?” I stalled. 

She scrunched her nose skeptically her eyes still glued to the fuming liquid in her hands “Was wondering if it is edible? Or are you planning to kill me with your obnoxious cooking skills?” her tone laced with sarcasm but her face devoid of humor if she meant any ”I haven’t even made a will of mine. You’ll directly have all my belongings” she had a mock horrified expression on her face

Did last few minutes happen?

My inner shrugged admitting positively and then urging me to take care of her.

Like I won’t

Sighing I swapped mugs with her “Look if I can live so will you.”

“No” she shrieked louder than usual picking her mug back “You have drunk from that mug, it has your infected saliva” her lips twisted in disgust with her attempt of humiliation.

“Don’t worry. You’ll live.” I forwarded my mug to her.

“I don’t want to take chances,” she said arrogantly picking up her own coffee mug.

“You are something” I smiled shrugging at her.

“You are a good coffee maker” she said sipping a long slurp of coffee letting the cream stick to her upper lip.

Damn she licked it too, her pink tongue extended out of her pouted lips twirling in circles over her lips wiping off the cream in a most seductive way, a guy could resist.

Too bad for me; my very active yet inactive libido was on an alert mode!

Nice huh!” she said rolling her eyes widening them together in appreciation, her hand with coffee mug extended at the direction of my crotch.

Me, me on the other hand sat in an awkward position with one leg over other obviously hiding the organ that was no longer in control.

I was micro-seconds away from puking and splattering the coffee everywhere embarrassed when I realized what she was referring to.

The coffee

Heavens!

She liked the coffee

The coffee is nice, not my…

My inner pointed between me and the gap between my thighs nodding his head muttering ‘safe’

And I was too mushed up to react

I had to fold my legs and sit now.

Obviously I cannot show off what her licking was doing to me.

‘What happened earlier” she stalled and then eyed me challengingly “I was scared” she tried to mask her emotions “This place is new and I was alone for the first time.”

“It’s been a month Pari” I tried to explain.

But she narrowed her eyes at me “You are not allowed to use it against me.” Her warning was evident.

I smiled at her innocence “I wont but you too have to promise me something.”

“What?” she acted as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“You wont call me jerk head ever.”

“Why. Its not that it isn’t true?” She was deliciously sipping the hot liquid as if it was iced.

“If I am a jerk head you are a bit**” I argued.

“Got it why I call you a jerk?” she protested “You cannot differentiate between a b***h and jerk head.”

I laughed solemnly “and how are you two different?”

“Bitches are loyal.” She finished her last sip before picking up the tray and walking away, her stance stating loud and clear “end of the discussion.”

She is not loyal?

```````````````

I stared at her as she took her own time analyzing the items in the kitchen, gathering things together and then giving an invisible satisfied pat to her shoulders.

“You don’t have to cook.” I said folding my hands as I watched her.

“You don’t have to talk. I prefer like you were last few days” My silent treatment backfiring.

“The cook will be back soon with the groceries.” I stated the fact.

“Too bad. I thought you’d be showing off your culinary skills to the family too.” She picked her book that lay on the shelf

Damn she was studying while she worked.

Dusting her hand she picked her book and was walking away “the cook is on a holiday. Do the honors Mr. Raj”

“Are you trying to test me?” I eyed her.

She just smiled devilishly crossing her legs Indian style, her book folded on her laps as she observed me critically.

“Would you cook if I answer a yes?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Challenge, you are challenging THE Raj?”  I pointed at myself. I tried to confirm if she meant what she meant trying to avoid labor in the kitchen

‘There is no conditioning in here?’my inner babbled trying to take me out of the challenge.

Exactly then she smirked the twitching of lips upwards a mocking abuse that I was indeed useless.

And I am not.

I picked the pink Disney princess apron and wrapped it around my torso

Please it was my mom’s and she is obsessed with cartoons.

 Cant help!

 Stop laughing 

Because the bit** Pari couldn’t stop her giggles.

“I’ll cook” I lifted few spatulas before stuffing them into the pocket of my apron.

To get the feel you see

She eyed me up and down from head to toe and back from toes to head and muttered “impressed” before continuing to giggle uncontrollably at my girly apron.

“Pari” I shouted loudly before glancing angrily at her.

She cupped her mouth with her hands trying to control her laughter and when her eyes met my dark ones she settled for zipping her mouth with her fingers and sat with her books in her hands silently.

Peaceful, prevailing silence.

Back to work guys!

‘I can cook’ I repeated in my head

I am used to doing this.

I mean I was 

I would nicely heat packed food and eat, sometimes cook pasta and cheese

Don’t judge it’s the easiest.

And what would ready to eat manufacturers do if a guy like me could actually cook?

They would be bankrupted, their families would die of starvation, and the economy would be crashed.

I know I am being overdramatic.

My inner applauding at my economic consideration and then rolled on the floor laughing that ‘no where in hell can I cook.’ d**k head!

But this was an unspoken challenge and I wanted to win.

So guys why has technology advanced?

For cool dudes like me….

Google here I come.

I picked a spoonful of butter and very graciously threw in on a heated pan before opening the carton of cottage cheese to be deep-fried.

And then I added another and one more and more.

It’s fun the sizzling of butter on a hot pan.

Don’t bulge your eyes out of the sockets!

They say ‘enjoy what you are doing’

“Are you actually going to make what you are making with the amount of butter that can be used in full week for the entire family?’ Pari asked shocked.

That’s why I tell you men in India do not cook.

They are obstructed, instructed, mocked and even criticized before they even start cooking.

“Miss ‘know it all’ medical student I know what I am doing” I said arrogantly before I went to next step of instructions.

She however stood on her feet disappointedly picked couple of vegetables, chopped them, minced them grated them god knows what and within minutes she was done with her work, she wiped her hands off the towel and was done

That quick!

My inner throwing his apron away and walking to give a grand salute to Pari

I however as usual IGNORED

Before leaving Pari peeped into my dish “Smells good. Good luck for that” and walked away.

Damn bitch

If she was cooking why does she have to put me through all this.

‘You called for it’ my inner justified for her

Bloody traitor!

``````````

“Its heavenly” she said as she savored the taste with her eyes closed “you cook good huh” she really meant it.

Now you might be wondering how the north and south poles were sitting together at one place and having a decent conversation?

Right.

Well when my infamous silent treatment had crashed out, I took the other option of giving each other space.

While she was through with her studies and I was working on a forthcoming project in my laptop, I heard a loud grumble.

I giggled; it was growling of her stomach, much unladylike.

She narrowed her eyes sheepishly obviously embarrassed and was walking to the room when I stopped her “You can eat if you are hungry.”

“Eat? Me?” she was almost scared at the words.

“I guess it’s evitable to eat when you are hungry enough for your stomach to grumble” I added “scientific truth” looking at her face turning red.

“No I’ll survive. I prefer to feed others before myself.” She said arrogantly.

“Is it something in your textbooks?” I wrinkled my eyebrows at the most stupid statement of the year.

She took a deep sigh as if not happy with what was coming from her mouth “I have been taught that when you cook you are supposed to feed others and make sure that they are satisfied before filling your own plate.”

“That’s bullshit!” I was shocked “what kind of preaching are these?”

“Aren’t you educated enough to assume and make sure that this is non-sense?” I kind of attacked her with my logistics.

“It is so ingrained in me Raj” my name coming from her mouth like a syllable but I tried to focus what she had to say in her defense “I am conditioned to believe it. I cannot outcome that belief even if I try. It seems …” she shrugged her self looking for right word “wrong, I cannot”

I chuckled at her innocence “I am not asking you to commit a crime, just eat.”

“You know what” she lifted her head, her spine erect “I am no longer hungry” and went back engrossed in the 5”thick book that she was reading.

It was then I took it as my moral responsibility of so called husband with an asterisk of convenience to feed her.

I came back with the sizzling paneer-shaslik[grilled cottage cheese], artwork of my hands with brown bread for her and me too..

Now how can I let my expertise be judged by some one other than me?

She licked her lips wafting the smooth aroma of the hot dish that was placed before her as she angled her eyes squinting away from the book that she was so thoroughly reading.

I plucked a chunk of bread obviously trying to tempt her as I pricked the soft cheese showcasing how great it was cooked 

“Now you can have it because it’s me who has cooked it.” I offered her “I am sure it’s as delicious as it smells.” I breathed in the sweet, spicy tangy smell of the dish before eying her indecision that was picturesque on her face.

“You are aware of the tiny fact that dogs always smell their food before eating?” she commented 

“So do bitches. Here you are have it, I pushed the plate in front of her before pushing the bite in my mouth.

If she was not sure that she should eat or not the repeat of loud grumbling from her stomach made her do the otherwise.

Once she put the bite in her mouth before she could relish I shouted “Oh s**t!”

“What? Did you add rat poison instead of spices? The bottles were alike.” she asked scared.

“No I cooked and I ate before feeding you.” I gave a horrified face.

No need to mention both of us ended laughing.

A genuine laughter but nothing else, at the moment mattered in the world:) 

a/n: 

Well I hope this wasn’t a non funny chapter…

But lot happening around

What happened to Pari?

Any kudos points to Raj?

Remember the drill

VOTE+COMMENT

And follow if you like my works:)