Sanjana is Fourteen...

Carefully, slowly, I poured Chai into the cup. I smiled at my own achievement because I hadn't spilled even one drop.

"Bahu! Kitni der aur lagegi!" Maa Ji called from the dining area.

(Bahu! How much more time will it take!)

"Bas, ho gaya Maa!" I replied and immediately carried the cup of tea and saucer outside the kitchen. But before I could reach the door, I froze and hurried back inside. I had forgotten to wear my veil. Maa Ji would certainly yell at me if she were to see me without the veil; besides, even my husband was present today.

(I'm almost done, Maa!)

I took the teacup outside. My breath hitched as I peeked at Bhairav Ji from under my veil. He was sitting at the table. Maa Ji sat beside him. His hands were propped as he waited, watching me.

"Chai..."

(Tea...)

I placed both glasses on the table in front of them. Maa Ji was the first to take a sip. My husband only watched his Mother. I squeezed the tray, waiting for their approval.

"Nashta bhi lekar aao, beta." Maa Ji's voice was softer, kinder. She liked the tea, and a smile lit up my face as I nodded, "Ji!" I hurried back to the kitchen and brought all the things that I had cooked with care. The maids helped me set the table.

(Bring breakfast as well, dear.)

Bhairav Ji sipped his tea as I served him and Maa. I said the names of each item, and suddenly my husband spoke up, startling me, "Ek ek karke batane ki zaroorat nahi hai."

(You don't have to mention each thing separately.)

I pulled away, mumbling, "Theek hai..."

(Okay...)

"Aur kuch chahiye toh bulaunga. Yaha khadi math raho," Maa Ji instructed, and I walked back to the kitchen. My excitement vaporised within seconds. For the first time, I had cooked breakfast singlehandedly. Last year, when I was thirteen, Maa and Dadi scolded me ruthlessly for not even knowing how to cook kheer. That was only because at our home, I had never cooked anything grand or sweet. Added to that, I had burned the kheer as well.

(If something else is needed, I'll call you. Don't keep standing here.)

"Bekar ladki!"

(Useless girl!)

"Kuch sikhaya nahi hai kya Maa Baap ne!"

(Your parents haven't taught you anything!)

Both Maa and Dadi had been very cruel on that day. Dadi even pinched my ear. I cried a lot, and Bhairav Ji was not home since he had left for the city on short notice. But that day, with the help of the maids, I learnt to cook kheer properly. It was my new home, and I didn't want to go back, so I had to give my best.

The kheer I cooked wasn't that great, but it was edible. Determined to stay in the haveli, I had served it to Maa and Dadi in the evening. They never expected me to cook again. But I kept asking them how I could make it better, and what they preferred to be put in kheer...

My enthusiasm made them smile, and thus I had won them over eventually.

But that didn't spare me from their wrath at all. Maa and Dadi were still very strict. They scolded me every chance they got, but they were never as harsh as my Mother. Maa had never said such cruel words to me again. She'd call me stupid or lazy, but it was always with a hint of motherly affection. They'd pile me with work and indirectly point out my mistakes. I was smart enough to correct them.

In the span of one year, I had learnt to cook almost every dish with Maa's help. The scoldings and hard hours of labour would be worth it if I could hear one kind word out of Bhairav Ji. It was his first time eating the food I cooked, of course.

I had my back pressed to the kitchen door, listening intently to whatever Maa and my husband commented regarding the food.

"Sab Sanjana ne akele banaya hai?" Bairav Ji asked finally. My heart raced.

(Did she make it all by herself?)

"Haa. Kuch hafton se woh hi sab bana rahi hai... Aur tumhare pita ji ko to uske haath ka chai bada pasand hai."

(Yes. For the past few weeks, she's the one cooking everything... And your Father loves the tea she makes.)

I could tell that Maa Ji was smiling as she replied. It made me smile as well.

"Aur Dadi ne kuch nahi kaha khane ke baare mai?"

(And Dadi didn't say anything about the food?)

Maa chuckled, "Tum toh Dadi-ji ko jaante hi ho. Bechaari ko chhedna unki puraani aadat hai. Mujhe bhi hamesha chhedti rehti thi. Aur dekho, itne dinon se Sanjana Dadi ke liye naye-naye pakwaan bana rahi hai... aur Dadi ne sab akeli hi kha liye. Bachchon ko bhi kuchh nahi diya."

(You know your Dadi. Tormenting that poor thing is her old habit. She used to torment me as well. For the past few days, Sanjana has been cooking different snacks for Dadi... And she ate it entirely, without giving the kids even a bite.)

"Acha?" My husband sipped his tea, "Ek saal pehle jab ghar aaya tha, aaplog bas uski shikayat kar rahe the. Ab aisi kya jadu kar diya?"

(Really? One year back, when I came home, you all had been complaining about her. What kind of spell has she put you under?)

There was a silence before Maa Ji spoke again, "Ek saal mai usne ghar ka sabhi kaam seekh liya hai beta. Bahut tez hai, aur Keshav keh raha tha ki padhai mai bhi aage hai... Aur itni masoom sa chehra toh hai, zyada daantne ka mann nahi karta. Keshav aur Bhargav toh ab mujhse nahi darte, par unke Bhabhi se toh bahut darte hai!"

(Within one year, she's learnt all the chores around the house, son. She's very smart, and Keshav was saying that she's great at studying as well... And she has such a beautiful and innocent face, you can't even scold her too much. Keshav and Bhargav aren't afraid of me anymore, but they're very afraid of her!)

My cheeks flushed. I didn't know if it was a compliment or not, but I accepted it either way. At least they didn't despise me. At least they were kind at heart. It was enough.

"Usne khaana kha li?" I heard him ask. My stomach fluttered with butterflies at his question.

(Did she eat?)

"Haan khayi hai," Maa replied before calling me. She asked me to sit beside him while she went to check on the maids. Bhairav Ji ate quietly, and I carefully filled his glass with water.

(Yes, she did.)

"Aapko khaana acha laga?" I asked when he finally got up from the table. I couldn't contain my curiosity anymore. My husband hummed, placing a hand over my head and gently ruffling my hair, "Achi banai hai, meri gilehri."

(Did you like the food?)

(You've cooked it well, my little squirrel.)

I felt so happy. My heart felt like it would explode as I watched Bhairav Ji make his way towards the handpump. He liked my food. He loved it!