Biryani with Love

Iris

Preparing herself to sleep in pajamas, Raina completed the task of writing her diary as instructed by her counsellor. It always took a lot of her to write her emotions down on that piece of paper but that was the whole point of this therapy to make the young lady feel again. Six months ago her father died in a car crash when she was writing her exam. She was thrilled during the exam because she knew every answer to the question. It will be a celebration at home she said to herself when she was called by the electronic speaker in the classroom. Completely perplexed she was asked to sit by the headmaster before her heart tore into several pieces. Coming back to an empty house which was once a home, she fell into a motionless state. The girl’s mother ran with her father because of religious differences and tied the knot. They had a beautiful marriage for 16 years until her mother died because of heart attack. Aunt Rosy next door is everything she had in the name of family. Her father planned everything for her dear daughter in case she is left alone but the emotional burden took on her and her signs became evident. Miss Rosy consulted her to a psychologist and here we are back again to the present looking at her diary with some doodles and a few words. That night was special though, not as normal as other days, it was a Wednesday and just like her every Wednesday she wrote something , this time it was a page long description of her coming back to their special Wednesday Biryani everyday with dry fruits on top. That was the key element of the dish, something that distinguished her dad’s handmade delicacy with anything else in the market and most of all it was with Love. Just like all dads her dad cared for her more than his own life, protected her and specially after his wife’s death, the two have been closer than ever. Each other is all they had which was more than enough for the two. That hasn’t been the case every Wednesday, she improved over time. Started with a line and now achieved an entire page. Meeting for a follow up every month, the counsellor asked Riana, why every Wednesday? And to her surprise she got to know that Raina has been receiving a parcel with a note “To my daughter” every Wednesday ever since her father died .You know where is it from? , asked Dr. Sharma. I never had the courage to find out , said Raina getting nervous as said her body language. Relax my child, it’s okay. You should find out, recommended the doctor.

For six months every Wednesday. She came back to a parcel with biryani topped with dry fruits just like her father made with a note saying to my daughter. It has been her motivation to live, and has been improving her state for these many months. Though it tasted nothing like what her Abba made but that never stopped her from relishing every bite of that dish because it meant more to her than a dish. It meant the world to her to say the least. After meeting the counsellor that day, Raina wasn’t able to put her mind off the thought of knowing who has been sending her the biryani every week with that special note. Finally she decided to contact her courier service and asked about the sender of the parcel. They gave her an address, and she was as curious as a cat .

Raina’s diary (Sunday, 17th June 2008) – ‘Reaching the address, I saw a man opening his shop early in the morning and bringing dry fruits from his shop. All I saw was that he opened the small packs and topped the Biryani with it. Packed it nicely and handed it to the courier guy with a note. I don’t know but I was too nervous to ask him why he was doing that’. A week passed and i received the biryani as usual. Finally I found courage to ask him about the parcel, I left towards his shop to see a new man sitting there. I asked for the man and briefed his appearance. You mean Aftab? He said. Are you Adil’s daughter? Yes how do you know? And the new shop owner just looked at me in some kind of relief. He asked me to sit in his office and so I did. The man told me that, my father used to buy dry fruits for the biryani every Wednesday from their shop when he was an assistant manager here . He used to talk about how he wanted the most fresh lot because it was for his daughter. He further added that he was pretty proud that you loved his Wednesday biryani. Your father and Aftab were pretty close, they shared less words but he always made sure that your dad receives what he wants. After knowing about my father’s demise Aftab started making biryani for me and continued to send it to me so that I never feel that your father isn’t there. It made my heart melt and my eyes were all wet with tears of realisation that how he made efforts for me. He cared for me just like my dad would have. So thoughtful of him to do that for me, to give me one light of hope which has made me go on all this time. He doesn’t even know what he has done for me. It’s amazing how a stranger can come into your life and leave footprints inside your heart forever. He is on his way, to take his belongings, it’s the destiny which wants you two to meet said the man. Just when he said that, the man arrived I looked at him and hugged him instantly. I felt Dad’.