“Hello Schitin!” I heard a friendly voice calling me as I was about to head home in Uncle Sipho’s taxi. The friendly voice belonged to a friendly-looking but beautiful girl with chocolate brown sleek hair. She was an Indian girl, just like me, and she had light brown eyes. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey,” I greeted her back. She pulled me away from Uncle Sipho’s taxi, to his annoyance. He hooted like an owl whose vocal cords had combusted into rage. I shot him an apologetic smile and turned to face her.
“My mom’s here to pick me up and uh, she invited you to lunch with my brother and I. I know you like Indian food,” she winked at me. Wow, she didn’t even know me and she was inviting me for lunch?! This should be fun. I called my mum to let her know where I was going, then shot Uncle Sipho another apologetic smile. He scowled and drove off in frustration.
This girl’s name was Pamper and her twin brother was Volta. They had a cosy home and her mother was very welcoming. I stopped as soon as I walked into the dining room; the table was set so full, the food seemed to be oozing off every corner. There was chicken curry, butter chicken, roti(a flat round traditional Indian bread), naan, dessert, cakes and so much of sugar that I felt like I could get a heart attack just looking at it. The best part was the savouries…SAMOOSAS!!!!!!
My mouth was watering so much, it felt like the Niagara Falls overflowing in there. Oh, and there was masala (Indian spices) EVERYWHERE. In the curry, in the samosa chutney, in the tea, probably even in the dessert. I smiled.
“Well, eat up!” Pamper’s mother ordered, lunging me forward. The lunch was perfectly normal. And by normal I mean extremely loud chatter, screaming, laughing, and the occasional choking. Pamper’s mother’s laugh was the best out of all. Each time she laughed, she made a gurgling noise and wiggled her arms around, slapping them any place she could find; the table, the chair, most of the time it was Volta’s face. When her father laughed, it came out like a roar more than a laugh, so loud and scary that it stilled everyone into dead silence and we had to wait for another joke to start laughing again. We were sitting right next to each other, but somehow everyone felt the need to scream on top of their voices, so much so that I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts. After dessert, to my surprise, Pamper’s parents burst into classical Indian love songs, while holding hands. It embarrassed Pamper and Volta so much that I could feel the heat radiating off their cheeks (It was enough to melt the dessert…and I think it actually was)
After that meal, I had laughed more than I had in my entire life and I had a stitch in my stomach that I was sure would never disappear. My eyes were watering and I was out of breath. Lord, am I unfit. Then again I don’t think the most greatest of athletes could be prepared for Pamper and Volta’s parents.
I stayed till late afternoon, getting to know this amazing family. I sat with them in the lounge, listening to their fascinating stories. Pamper’s father had no problem displaying how back in the day, he had “The moves like Jagger” and again, making Pamper and Volta squirm and cover their faces with the pillows.
“Dad, no, just why?!”
“OMG, Dad, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal!”
“Dad, come one, you’re freaking Schitin out!”
30 minutes later
After that episode, Pamper took me aside and exhaled deeply.
“Hey, I’m really sorry for my parents…They can get a little crazy.” she blushed. I giggled.
“That’s cool, I think your parents are awesome,” I said truthfully. She smiled. Just then, Volta walked in, folded his arms and leaned against the door of Pamper’s room.
“Hey Sky, I saw what happened with you and Iola the other day. We called you over to let you know that…No matter what happens, we’ll be there to stick up for you,” he said with a sheepish smile. That really warmed my heart. These guys already felt like family.
“Thanks,” I smiled.
15 minutes later
Pamper’s parents offered to drop me off at home, but since my house was just a street away from where I was, I decided to take a walk, which is kind of suicidal in South Africa. As I was walking, I smiled, thinking about the day’s events when I suddenly noticed a bloody figure lying flat on the floor, writhing in pain. I gasped. I ran closer and stopped dead when I saw who the figure was.
It was Xycobra.
Copyright Aakifah Mahomed 25 May 2014
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A reminder that this story along with all its characters are fictional and are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real life people is merely coincidental.
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