She read the lines again: "I think it would be best to stop sending messages. It has been good to reconnect with you after all these years, but our lives have moved on and thankfully things are good for you as well as for me. Let us just leave it at that."
A whistle shattered the silence of the house, jerking Reema's eyes away from the screen of her laptop. She jumped and dashed to the kitchen. Was it the fourth whistle or the fifth? She had lost count. As she turned off the flame, she decided to not to open the lid of the pressure cooker. Better to let the heat simmer inside.
The rice was ready and so was the curry. She had made the raita too. Only the salad remained now. She looked at the clock – half an hour for Rahim to return from the mosque. Rehna too would be back from her classes by then.
The jasmine trellis framing her kitchen window shifted restlessly, as though trying to take shelter from the hot wind romping outside.