constant bickering. She extracted herself from Shourya’s arms and studied his face. ‘How have you been, beta? You look so thin!’
‘Don’t mind her, Shourya,’ Lavanya interjected. ‘Everyone looks thin to her. Anyone whom she does not feed every day is too thin.’
‘Actually, I do think I am getting too thin. What do you have for me, Aunty?’
‘Ah, such a good child. See, Lavi? Learn something from him. Come in, come in,’ she herded the two of them towards the kitchen. ‘She does not eat properly. I keep telling her, but she never listens.’
‘That’s not nice, Lavanya. Not nice at all. You should listen to your mother.’
Lavanya narrowed her eyes at him.
‘Sit, sit. Let me heat up breakfast for you. I made aloo parathas and fresh white butter.’
‘Yum! See this is what we miss in the States. Starting the day with greasy, buttery food that fills you up till dinnertime.’
‘Don’t you like aloo parathas?’ Mrs Suryavanshi looked offended.
‘
I
love them,’ Lavanya chipped in, taking advantage of the situation.
‘Me too! They are my absolute favourite!’ Shourya smirked at Lavanya. ‘I was just saying how different food habits are in the States. You know . . . fruit juice, milk, toast, cereal, eggs—nothing too heavy. Ah, those people have nothing on us.’
‘Pancakes aren’t that light. And bacon,’ Lavanya said.
Shourya gasped. ‘Bacon! Are you telling me, Lavanya Suryavanshi, that you have taken to eating beef? Beef?! Cow meat?’
Mrs Suryavanshi spun around. Her hand shot to her mouth, eyes wide, as she stared at Lavanya. ‘
Lavi!
’
‘What,
no
! I do not even eat pork, let alone beef. I do not even know what bacon is; only that it is meat. Mom, really!’
Mrs Suryavanshi shook her head. ‘Lavi, what is this I’m hearing? Is this how I raised you?’
‘Yes,
Lavi
,’ Shourya said in an exaggerated tone, ‘I never expected you to become so detached from your own culture and values to be okay with eating cow meat. I am
so
disappointed in you.’
‘But, I don’t even . . . Mom, trust me. Don’t listen to him. You know his lifelong agenda is to turn you against me.’ Lavanya glared at Shourya. ‘I do not eat bacon. I’ve never had anything other than chicken and fish. I’ve never even tasted red meat!’
Mrs Suryavanshi did not look convinced. ‘I want to believe you . . .’
‘You should!’
‘Yes, Aunty, you should,’ Shourya said, peeling an orange. ‘She clearly has no knowledge about red meat.’
‘Yes— Wait, what?’ Lavanya paused.
‘Yup, bacon isn’t beef; it’s pork. I was just testing you.’
‘Wow. And if I’d said bacon is not beef, that would have meant what? That I’ve eaten it? That’s pure genius,’ she sneered good-naturedly at Shourya.
‘Nah! I know you don’t have the balls to try anything that’s not approved and permitted. I just wanted to freak you out.’
‘You know nothing.’
‘Don’t I? Do you have secrets now?’ Shourya raised one eyebrow.
‘Five minutes in, and you kids are already at each other’s throats.’ Mrs Suryavanshi served hot parathas on the kitchen counter. ‘Eat now, before it gets cold.’
‘He started it,’ Lavanya muttered before sitting down next to Shourya on a tall counter stool. She placed a hot paratha on her plate, plonked a dollop of white butter on top of it and watched it melt away slowly, spreading across the paratha, and eventually seeping out. ‘Just how I like it,’ she grinned at her mother and picked up her fork and knife.
‘What are you doing—?’ Shourya interrupted, aghast, before she could take her first bite. ‘That is not how you eat a paratha!’ He tore a piece of his paratha with his fingers, dipped it in butter and deposited it into his mouth. ‘That’s how it’s done.’
‘It’s bad manners to talk with your mouth full.’ Lavanya continued eating with her fork.
‘Use your hands. Trust me, it’ll taste better that way!’
‘I am eating
‘Don’t mind her, Shourya,’ Lavanya interjected. ‘Everyone looks thin to her. Anyone whom she does not feed every day is too thin.’
‘Actually, I do think I am getting too thin. What do you have for me, Aunty?’
‘Ah, such a good child. See, Lavi? Learn something from him. Come in, come in,’ she herded the two of them towards the kitchen. ‘She does not eat properly. I keep telling her, but she never listens.’
‘That’s not nice, Lavanya. Not nice at all. You should listen to your mother.’
Lavanya narrowed her eyes at him.
‘Sit, sit. Let me heat up breakfast for you. I made aloo parathas and fresh white butter.’
‘Yum! See this is what we miss in the States. Starting the day with greasy, buttery food that fills you up till dinnertime.’
‘Don’t you like aloo parathas?’ Mrs Suryavanshi looked offended.
‘
I
love them,’ Lavanya chipped in, taking advantage of the situation.
‘Me too! They are my absolute favourite!’ Shourya smirked at Lavanya. ‘I was just saying how different food habits are in the States. You know . . . fruit juice, milk, toast, cereal, eggs—nothing too heavy. Ah, those people have nothing on us.’
‘Pancakes aren’t that light. And bacon,’ Lavanya said.
Shourya gasped. ‘Bacon! Are you telling me, Lavanya Suryavanshi, that you have taken to eating beef? Beef?! Cow meat?’
Mrs Suryavanshi spun around. Her hand shot to her mouth, eyes wide, as she stared at Lavanya. ‘
Lavi!
’
‘What,
no
! I do not even eat pork, let alone beef. I do not even know what bacon is; only that it is meat. Mom, really!’
Mrs Suryavanshi shook her head. ‘Lavi, what is this I’m hearing? Is this how I raised you?’
‘Yes,
Lavi
,’ Shourya said in an exaggerated tone, ‘I never expected you to become so detached from your own culture and values to be okay with eating cow meat. I am
so
disappointed in you.’
‘But, I don’t even . . . Mom, trust me. Don’t listen to him. You know his lifelong agenda is to turn you against me.’ Lavanya glared at Shourya. ‘I do not eat bacon. I’ve never had anything other than chicken and fish. I’ve never even tasted red meat!’
Mrs Suryavanshi did not look convinced. ‘I want to believe you . . .’
‘You should!’
‘Yes, Aunty, you should,’ Shourya said, peeling an orange. ‘She clearly has no knowledge about red meat.’
‘Yes— Wait, what?’ Lavanya paused.
‘Yup, bacon isn’t beef; it’s pork. I was just testing you.’
‘Wow. And if I’d said bacon is not beef, that would have meant what? That I’ve eaten it? That’s pure genius,’ she sneered good-naturedly at Shourya.
‘Nah! I know you don’t have the balls to try anything that’s not approved and permitted. I just wanted to freak you out.’
‘You know nothing.’
‘Don’t I? Do you have secrets now?’ Shourya raised one eyebrow.
‘Five minutes in, and you kids are already at each other’s throats.’ Mrs Suryavanshi served hot parathas on the kitchen counter. ‘Eat now, before it gets cold.’
‘He started it,’ Lavanya muttered before sitting down next to Shourya on a tall counter stool. She placed a hot paratha on her plate, plonked a dollop of white butter on top of it and watched it melt away slowly, spreading across the paratha, and eventually seeping out. ‘Just how I like it,’ she grinned at her mother and picked up her fork and knife.
‘What are you doing—?’ Shourya interrupted, aghast, before she could take her first bite. ‘That is not how you eat a paratha!’ He tore a piece of his paratha with his fingers, dipped it in butter and deposited it into his mouth. ‘That’s how it’s done.’
‘It’s bad manners to talk with your mouth full.’ Lavanya continued eating with her fork.
‘Use your hands. Trust me, it’ll taste better that way!’
‘I am eating
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