It’s a perfect Sunday morning and my stomach begins to grumble, thinking it’s hunger I had an early breakfast. Hours passed, ordered two chicken biriyani for me , my younger sister and my lil one. The chicken pieces being large, the quantity of rice was quite small , thus I opened the second and helped myself with little rice from that , on seeing which my lil one screams asking me not to eat too much. I want to laugh, yet I am angry, told her I just got lil rice from our packet therefore taking some from other. She looks away disapprovingly. Hours pass again. I am all cool. Night comes. I am having a deep sleep when I am suddenly woken up by this shot of pain in my tummy. I want to scream, reminds me of contractions in the labor room, except I didn’t people around me yelling. I call my elder sis who thankfully is on night duty, she asks me to take some medicine, realised it’s 3 am. Amma wakes up listening to me whine, atlast the pain kind of subsides , and I atlast get some sleep only to be woken up by pain again. I am crying in pain and explaining that my stomach is aching to my younger sister, not sure from where, but my daughter comes running, only to exclaim ‘ Njan paranjathale randu biriyani kazhikaruthenu’ ( Didn’t I tell you not to eat two packets of biriyani) . I am astonished, amused and annoyed and yes of course in pain. I want to laugh. I think I laughed throughout the pain.
(P.S. it was not the biriyani!)