Copyright © 2010 Sarah Khan
“Amma! Please”! I cry. My mum has gone completely bonkers, honestly! I am absolutely exhausted coming from college, so I decide to get stuck into my five pieces of assignments, before I can watch my favourite programme in the whole entire world. ‘Eastenders’. Unexpectedly, my mum sticks the hover on whilst I switch on BBC 1.
All of a sudden the theme tune blurs into the background and she finally switches the hover off. Great! Thanks a lot mum. Arrghh! She looks at me and smiles as if she has not realised what she has done. “Ha ha ha, you couldn’t watch your dumb programme properly’’ laughs Wasim.God! He makes me so angry. Intentionally, I would use violence; however I grab my gorgeous Mongolian cushions and nearly start to hurl them at him.
Suddenly, my instincts kick in “Don’t do it, you bought them remember? They cost £25.00 each” .Stop .Pause... Think. Speak. “You are so annoying, what’s with the self-obsession and the mirror hogging’’ I grin and burst into hysteria. Little do I realise, my eldest brother Jamal, emerges into the living room. Everyone has become silent, man has he got a temper on him. He approaches Wasim....as the tension in the room sears, I clasp my hands “Yo, bro order us a takeaway, I’m starving” he smiles warmly.
In complete shock, Wasim searches for a takeaway menu and punches the number into his fake iphone ( bought from Amazon, cheaper version) I have that shall-I –sit-there-for-few-minutes or quickly get up moment. As I get ready to jump up, I have an astonishingly, strange conversation with him “Hey, sis. How are your studies going? What grades you getting?” He asks surprisingly. I kind of freeze for a few seconds and slur my words “I... I’m hopefully getting three A’s” I stutter. He nods and smiles happily. Oh my, he must have been hit by a book or something. He never asks how I am. What is he up to?
It is dangerously freezing, below -4c and the time is 9:30pm. My dad puffs away on his last Benson and Hedges. I beg him all the time to quit, but he say’s “I’m addicted shunnah, what can I do.’’ I plonk myself on the three piece sofa. My dad enters the living room and adjusts his armchair and slumps himself slowly onto it. “Samera shunnah, make me some tea” he gasps.
I enter the kitchen; my bro Wasim just bought us a £1,900 kitchen from MFI. It is exceptionally stunning the mahogany units have high provisioned lights and are attached inside the draws. They are also polished to sheer perfection. In the Asian tradition, we call tea “chaa”. We add hot steamed milk to give it a fuller taste. Tap tap... Its mum “Hurry up, the biscuits are in the Roses tin” smiles mum.
I spring into the living room and serve my parents ‘chaa’. My dad thanks me with supari a traditional snack made from beetle nut soaked into sugar. I sit beside them and munch away. Yummy!
Knock. Knock. “You alive wassy” I love annoying my bro, it’s hilarious. Even though we fight like cat and dog. We have a brilliant brother and sister relationship. He does not answer I assume he’s ignoring me or hypnotized by his Playstation 3.
That night, I skim through all my A level psychology notes and absorb as much information as I can. That’s the problem I cannot because I have been fixated by T.V. and Twitter. I sort of panic because I have an exam next week.Arrghh!
I immediately collapse on my bed. “Hmmm... hmmm...” I sigh
^Standing in an open forest where trees are sky high, streaming rivers and the wonderful birds twittering blissfully in the near distance as the emerging sunset calmly drowns in the far distance. I suddenly feel, the crisp breeze swaying across my face and the smell is utterly invigorating, Capti...^
A burst of light enters my room. There you go my evening dream ends. Full stop! Mum bustles into the room “Samera get up, your auntie is here with the whole kandaan(generation) make yourself useful” she demands with exhaustion. “Oh, Amma, I hate that Gold digger” I moan with frustration. My mum widens her eye I know what that means I immediately pick up my salwar kameez.
My auntie lives around the corner. She is the worst person you will ever meet. I call her the “shabby” Gossip queen. She is like a rodent. I will never know why the hell my uncle married a person like her. Everyone assumed she was a stunning bride in actual fact she was a vile snake.
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