Contrasts
This is a very short story built up and based on a few observations from my evening out to eat pani-puri with my sister and mom. The contrasts have to do with the class, colour and income divide between the two fragments of the same family.
Sitting on the plastic stool beside the pani-puri stall guilelessly, she was trying to avoid looking at the supposed drinking water can with its dripping tap and a bucket to collect it and the uneven road by the side of which the stall was situated. She looked interested in what could have been her native cousin talking about how tasty the pani-puri there was.
Thoughts of the far better falafel stands near her high school back home must have crossed her mind. The roads were much wider and cleaner in New Jersey than here, anyway. Meanwhile, her cousin, in her Indian English accent, continued her humble chattering about all the places they could visit after this.
Walking out of the store on the other side of the street with a handful of bags was Anita, her mom, accompanied by her older sister. She too carried a couple more bags and wore what appeared to be a costly pair of sunglasses; the sun had almost disappeared beneath the haphazard hilly terrain of Vijayawada.
With her neatly straightened hair getting disturbed out of its place, Anita enquired her brother-in-law about how long it would be before they got their order of pani-puri delivered. Her right brow bore a slight frown. The brother-in-law who resembled his daughter: dark, short, smiled at Anita, “I’ll check with him right away.” He then turned to the vendor and enquired about the same with an air of authority, in a baritone as opposed to the high pitch he used when talking to his sister-in-law.
“Five minutes, sir. It is yours that I’m making”,
Casting a look towards the water can, Anita arched her brows in shock, “Aradhya, what are you doing sitting there! Get up and get here, right now”. She turned to her brother-in-law, smiled sheepishly and talked at length about how Aradhya was allergic to mosquitoes and she didn’t want to trouble them in case something untoward happened. Her brother-in-law nodded affirmingly, told her he’d check with the vendor. It had only been two minutes. He rolled his eyes as he turned away from Anita.
The vendor hurriedly served them their order. He made sure to get it right despite the growing line of customers and their orders, They can wait for a while, he thought. Aradhya, her sister and mom finished eating pani-puri and seemed delighted about the taste. Her cousin was indeed right. When it came the time to pay, Anita opened her expensive wallet with its expensive money and searched for Indian rupees. Her brother-in-law tried to pay with his own money but she brushed his effort off, “it’s alright. Leave it to me.” She turned to the vendor, “here”, and handed him two hundred rupees. “Keep the change.” She turned to leave.
Aradhya’s cousin held her father’s hand and they walked behind their NRI relatives, in new, white, clean Nikes that were gifted to them, away from the little pani-puri stall.
Hey there! Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.