Return of the Tiffin Tales #WriteAPageADay

We had just started unpacking when there was a knock on the door. My husband opened it to find a man his age smiling at the door. "Hi, I am Alex, your next-door neighbour," he said with warmth in his voice. Our house was scattered all over with unopened cardboard boxes. Still, my husband asked him to come inside and he did. He offered us help and was kind enough to unpack a few boxes along with us. We were having tea when we started discussing what we do. He said he teaches at a college nearby and lives with his wife, who has left for her work. We had sweet pleasantries for some time. Then he left, and we went about our remaining unpacking.

The next few days were a whirlwind, unpacking and setting up the new house. We somehow managed to prepare the meals and had no time to do anything else. When we had finished arranging and setting up everything, it was my husband's time to join his work. We hardly had time to explore the locality as planned, and we had no chance to meet Alex and his wife. The day my husband joined work, I was doing some work in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. I opened it to find a lady in the police uniform. She had a shoulder bag with her. Her sudden appearance made me nervous; what did the police have to do with me? She said in a polite voice, " Are you from India? " 

"Yes", fumbled the nervous me. Is that a crime? "Where is your husband?" she asked, not altering her polite voice. 

"He is at work." the tension was building up inside me.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I am a housewife. I don't work." I could not hold back my nervousness anymore, "Is there something wrong?"

She narrowed her eyes, took out her police hat and looked at me. She seemed so Indian and, most importantly, very familiar. " Can I come in?"

The police of a different country want to come inside my house! I was unsure if I should be happy, frightened, alerted or sad about it! But I asked her to get in. She made herself comfortable on the couch. "Did you have your lunch?" she asked, her voice too friendly, too familiar. "No, but I am about to. "said I, my heart beating fast. Is she going to arrest me? "Oh well then, get your lunch here; we'll have it together." Quite casually, she opened her shoulder bag to bring out a lunch box. I had no other choice than to get the lunch I made, over there. I was left baffled that she got the same lunch as me, roti rolls. I stood there, startled, surprised as if I had seen a ghost. She smiled at me, " Ki re khabi na? (Won't you eat?) The police here speak Bengali too! 

I sat next to her without being able to take a single morsel of food. My mouth was wide open in surprise, big enough for her to place a piece of roti into it. Again she said in Bengali, "Eat eat, I know you are not a light-eater." 

Now she looked at me and said, "Chinte parli na to (Can't you recognize me?) I am Pari. Remember, we used to share our tiffin together in school." 

How can I forget Pari and our Tiffin Tales together! "Alex is my husband; when I heard about you from him, I wanted to meet you guys, hearing you are Indians. But when I saw your name, I wanted to surprise you."

"But how did you know it was going to be me?" I asked.

"Your name, dear... no one in the world has this unique name." We giggled and ate our food, just like during school time.

This blog post is a part of #WriteAPageADay from Blogchatter