The grand dining room of Saj’s mansion was a sight to behold, with its high ceilings, intricate wall tapestries, and a table that could comfortably seat an army. But this morning, it was home to a smaller, more intimate gathering.
At the head of the table sat Saj, a woman in her late forties who was the epitome of elegance and strength. Her long black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, and her piercing eyes scanned the table with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.
To her right sat her daughter, Mano, a younger version of Saj with a sharper tongue and a wicked sense of humor. To her left were her nieces, Saman and Mehak, both beautiful and cunning, with a mischievous glint in their eyes.
At the foot of the table sat Saj’s son, a young man in his early twenties who looked nervous and out of place. He knew that mealtimes with his family were never ordinary.
Saj gave her son a cold, appraising look. “Well, are you going to eat or just sit there like a useless lump?” she asked.
Mano snickered, and Saman and Mehak exchanged a wicked glance. The son hesitated, looking at the plate in front of him with distaste. It was piled high with food, but not the kind he was used to. Instead of scrambled eggs and bacon, there were mounds of rice and curry, and a large bowl of what looked like yogurt.
Saj noticed his hesitation and her expression hardened. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to eat it, I asked if you were going to eat it,” she said.
The son knew better than to argue with his mother. He picked up his fork and tried to take a bite of the rice, but it was difficult with his hands shaking so much.
Mano, Saman, and Mehak watched him with barely concealed amusement. “Here, let us help you,” Mano said, picking up a piece of naan bread with her foot and offering it to him.
The son looked at her in horror, but Saj nodded her head in approval. “Go on, use your mouth,” she said.
He hesitantly took the bread from Mano’s foot and put it in his mouth. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but the thought of eating food that had been touched by someone’s foot was still disgusting.
Saj watched him with a critical eye. “You’re going to have to eat faster than that if you want to finish before lunch,” she said.
Mano, Saman, and Mehak took this as their cue to start feeding him with their feet. They took turns offering him bites of rice, curry, and yogurt, laughing and making playful insults as they did so.
The son tried to protest, but Saj silenced him with a glare. “This is how we eat in this family. You should be grateful we’re even letting you join us,” she said.
He knew better than to argue. He opened his mouth and let his cousins feed him, trying to ignore the fact that their feet were touching his food.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally finished his breakfast. Saj nodded her head in approval. “Good boy. Now, let’s get ready for lunch,” she said.
The son sighed in relief, but he knew that mealtimes with his family were far from over.
As they all stood up from the table, Saj turned to her son. “By the way, I have a special surprise for you at lunch. You’re going to love it,” she said with a wink.
The son couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. He had no idea what his mother had in store for him, but he knew it was bound to be anything but ordinary.
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