On a Roll

"Today, we are going to learn how to create an authentic Indian bread we call paratha. Note down the ingredients, please." Rudraan quickly dictated the requirements and measurements. God, she is beautiful. The person in question was Natasha, one of the many resident Indians, settled in the Great Britain, who are sent for an annual brush-up with their roots, beginning from the kitchen secrets. Must have a marriage fixed, possibly with a banker here. Bastard. 

He straightened his apron, on which was written in colourful stitches "MAN CAN COOK" and smiled at the lot of women from eighteen to twenty two. Most of them were keenly interested in the learning, while the fingers of the others gave way to the restlessness of the compelling nature they were habituated to -- of scrolling down on their smart phone screens. "To knead the dough well is essential." Oh for the thousandth time, how well this will turn out, and how well they are gonna be amused. "In a bowl take whole wheat flour and add salt, oil and water. Mix these into a smooth and soft dough." He looked at Natasha. How I wish I would be able to knead your arms instead. He cleared his throat. "Adjust water if required and keep it aside for about half an hour."

How on earth am I so smitten? "Are we ready to roll, girls? Gimme a loud yes!" I think I will indeed approach her. He shifted his attention to turning towards Natasha. "Come on now, each of you roll out a medium sized ball from the dough. Let me see, let me see, who does it best!" Strategically, he shifted next to her and took her portion on the lightly dusted board to perfect it to a round. Oh man touch me! You smell of buttery steam. He took her hand on the rolling pin and rolled it out then, "like this, girls" as he demonstrated a round that could compete with a globe. The girls began giggling in awe. "Brilliant!" some exclaimed. "Oh my god" the others. Natasha didn't say a word. He continued, "nice and easy, girls. Dust some flour lightly to ease the rolling." By now, Natasha knew he was stuck to her.

"Uh, excuse me Rudraan, I need to make a call" and moved out of the room. 

"Sure, Natasha." Like hell you do. Bitch you like me touching you, don't you? Lets get you jelly. On her return, he moved towards another girl and began, "heat the tava on medium and place the paratha on it." He touched this girl's elbow as she was pressing it downwards. "Once the paratha begins puffing up, flip it." He glanced across and noticed Natasha coming up with the making of a perfect paratha already. "Spread the ghee evenly, girls." Even before he could finish attending to each one of them, Natasha came up to him with hers. 

"Have mine!" she said excitedly and presented to Rudraan her plate on which sat the glory of a ghee-clad paratha.

"Sure will" and paused to glance into her eyes a while longer than necessary. He took the first bite and it melted into his mouth, the softness and the texture. It felt like a kiss. "Excellent, Natasha!"

Two months later, they were pelting out rolls from a corner in the market-place. The learning institute gave in to this counter where the profits soared like emotions did, on watching Bollywood movies. Inside that little room of theirs they called work-place, Rudraan and Natasha rolled out one delicacy after the other. It was, after all, love at first bite.