‘She wasn’t feeling well,’ Jai repeated, for want of anything else to say.

‘Perhaps she’s allergic to us,’ said Habib with a smile. Inaya raised her eyebrows and snickered. Jai squirmed, praying that the food would arrive soon, so he could flee this uncomfortable scene.

‘So, are you from India?’ Habib asked conversationally.

Jai nodded.

‘We crushed you in the Asia Cup,’ piped up Inaya.

‘Sorry, what?’ said Jai, completely disconnected from any news related to sport.

‘Your bowlers were weeping by the end of the tournament,’ she continued.

Habib gave her a stern look to stop, but Inaya was on a roll.

‘They need to eat more protein,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you should parcel some legs of raan and send it to your bowlers.’

Jai bristled but couldn’t think of any suitably crushing comeback—especially as he was clueless about cricket. Thankfully, the waitress arrived with the packets of food shortly after.

Jai hastily collected them and made his way to the exit, hoping he would never have to see that nasty, smug piece of work again.

Sumo Wrestling

As Inaya and Habib entered Adeela’s home, they could hear the raised voices of Humaira and her sister, entrenched in intense argument in the kitchen.

‘It has barely been a few hours and they’re already going at it hammer and tongs,’ sighed Habib. ‘It’s a good thing that you and I got ourselves some food and fresh air.’

Inaya chuckled. She couldn’t help marvelling at how her usually dignified grandmother quickly regressed into a squabbling ten-year-old whenever she was with her sister.

‘Well, you would have attended the wedding if you had cared enough,’ Humaira snapped at Adeela. ‘It’s not as if your only sister’s only son gets married every day.’

‘I can’t believe that you’re holding a grudge about something that happened seventeen years ago, Humaira Aapa,’ Adeela retorted. ‘And it wasn’t like you were over the moon about that wedding, if I remember right. You disliked Benaifer right from the start—and only because the poor thing wasn’t Muslim.’

‘I did not dislike her. I was absolutely fine about them getting married,’ retorted Humaira, at which Habib raised an incredulous eyebrow.

‘Did you also not like my mother, Daada?’ asked Inaya, as she followed Habib into the living room.

‘Benaifer was like a daughter to me, Inaya,’ replied Habib gently. ‘You are so much like her. Although she did smash fewer photo frames,’ he added, smiling.

Inaya pretended to be most offended and then broke into a wide grin.

‘By the way, Inaya,’ said Habib, ‘Don’t you think you were a little harsh with that poor boy at lunch?’

‘No. Of course not, Daada,’ Inaya replied breezily. ‘Have you forgotten that they were the ones who left the table because we were Pakistani? That’s harsh, if you ask me. And besides, I was just stating facts about their bowlers.’

‘Hmm. Last I checked, you couldn’t get enough of a certain Indian bowler named Jhulan,’ said Habib.

Inaya’s cheeks flushed.

‘Yes, but that boy was very annoying, Daada . . . ’