“Ok fine. I’ll come to your home tomorrow. No excuses this time please,” she told to me so easily.
As an introvert, I’ve made very few friends. And hardly few of them had made their way to my home. I am not mean; but I simply don’t like bringing them home.
She is my friend from school. Although weren’t that close during school days, the virtual world of social media brought us so closer that she wanted to meet me in person after more than a decade.
I fell in a crisis when she expressed her willingness to come to my home. Deep inside my heart, I wanted to say, “Please, don’t come!” But it would have been rude and our “friendship” could be in peril; therefore, I couldn’t utter that. After making excuses to avoid the meet for two successive times, it seems she didn’t get any location, to date, other than my home.
Next day the sun came up as usual and the clock was turning the way it always did. But it was not just-another-day to me. I hadn’t yet revealed to my family that a “she-friend” of mine is coming. Looking at my unnatural nervousness since the time I wake up, mom asked me, “What has happened to you?”
I thought the time was ripe to pull the curtain. “Mom, I don’t know what happens to me when my friend is coming home,” I said is a childish tone. I’ve thought she’ll understand my psychology but to my dismay she said, “You’re acting as if the president is coming.”
“This very attitude of yours doesn’t allow me to invite my friends home,” I said with my forehead wrinkled.
She simply smiled at my reply and asked to finish the breakfast without being nervous. She appeared to know what’s going inside me. After all, she is a mother.
***********************
She gave me a missed call signaling she was approaching my home. I came out to veranda and waited for her arrival. Finally, a scooty stopped right in front of the gate. There she was. I recognized her even before she put off her helmet.
I rushed downstairs and opened the gate myself. She parked her vehicle at a side. I started to introduce my family members, “This is our little doggy … My little niece … Dear sis … Mom and Dad.”
She bowed her head to greet “Namaste” to everyone as if she was trying to give an impression that she could be the best daughter-in-law in the house someday.
After reading my psychology, everyone in the home was behaving affably. She was willing to exchange more conversation with my mom. But I didn’t want her to interact further. So, I took her upstairs to our living room.
The room has been unkempt for two days. However, it wasn’t looking so untidy as it always used to be. I made her sit comfortably and told her to get herself engaged with my laptop until I made a cup of tea.
I remembered, the keypad of my old laptop had already worn out and works occasionally only. Leaving everything in the hands of god, I came downstairs to the kitchen.
Dear sister seeming to be cooperative asked me, “Shall I make the tea?” I replied, “Nope! I’ll make it myself.” In her eyes, I could see pity toward me.
I started making tea with all the good efforts and recipe I knew. Although a bottle of milk is brought every day in our home, only black tea is prepared in our kitchen. I made a ‘special’ black tea, adding all the ingredients that I had known would enhance the flavor of tea.
With well-arranged few biscuits and two cups of tea on a plate-like tray, I entered the living room. She had already finished watching the photos. I offered the tea. She took a slurp. I asked,
“How’s it?”
“Umm…good… In fact, the best! Did you prepare by your own?”
“Of course! with my own hand.”
She simply smiled at my reply.
Silence haunted the situation for sometimes. I was doing my best to hide that I wasn’t feeling awkward. She was again going through my photo album as if she was searching something.
I asked her, “Haven’t you finished yet?”, in a formal approach.
“Yup! … Almost.”
She caught the glass again and took it to her lips. One more slurp and turned to me,
“How’s life going?”
“Oh!… As usual,” I answered.
It seems our “story” was asking something. Although I’m good at creating dramatic conversation in the virtual world of Facebook, I’m very bad in making conversation in real world. I wish Mark Zuckerberg creates the Metaverse very soon so that the introvert like me will have my own comfortable space.
She took the last slurp of tea and said, “It’s time to leave.”
It had hardly been an hour since she had arrived. The “story” wanted me to make her stay further so that whenever the situation would be ripe, we could at least have a kiss. But I was so nervous that I didn’t dare to stop her.
I expressed my gratitude for coming. She gave her killer smile and said, “Thanks for having me home.”
Getting downstairs, she bid goodbye to my mom. Mom waved back saying, “Do come again, dear.”
I opened the gate. She started the engine of her scooty and disappeared in the crowd. I breathed the ecstatic air of relief.
My little niece was playing at the corridor. I carried her in my arms and kissed her on her cheeks. I was happy, probably in a triumph of not spoiling her visit to my home.
PS- Dear Readers, I would like to apologize if I didn’t meet your “expectation”. Nothing happened between us. Lol.
