Part 2-Savouries Saga

I rushed home after work to try and get things done as fast as I can, the time between Asr and Magrib is so short and I hate spending a second extra in the kitchen when its so precious for Ibadaat.

Luckily today my MiL had to prepare the main dish and my task was the savoury.

My big brother-in-law has to have mince samosas every single day to break his fast, if that isn't on the table I don't think the Muazzian would be able to call the Magrib azaan. Luckily his wife is efficient enough to bare this responsibility. 
My second brother-in-law only eats savouries in Ramadaan, no normal food...(can you believe it!...).
My husband may just be the only normal brother of the house...he eats almost anything, always normal food first and then later a savoury or two, usually after Tarawee. He even knows if he wants Badaam dood, sarbaat milkshake or cool drink. (lucky me)

I decided to pull out the savoury Chelsea buns I had and froze before Ramadaan for days like this when work and Ibadaat are fighting for my time. I shuffled through the labelled deep-freeze Tupperwares until I found my ready to heat and eat Chelsea buns...only thing, the container was suspiciously light! I took a peek in to find it already half empty, but we hadn't made these for iftaar yet! I'm so puzzled, could the maids be pinching savouries! Why would they, my MiL already gives then every single thing any neighbours or family members send.

While I contemplated what to do, my MiL walked in..."Oh you here Fatima... I thought I'll have to make the savoury too."
"just got held up a bit at work mummy"
"so what you going to make"
"savoury Chelsea buns and I'll see something else too..."
"oh yah. I took few out from there to give Ayesha, hope you don't mind...you know,her MiL doesn't make anything nice and with two boys she got no time! Just now she'll get paatri paatri and maandi so never-mind I pack jaraack jaraack for her, kaynee...Qasim too must see we make nice things not like them."
(that explains it then...time to find a plan b)

I set the buns to warm and put some kebabs my MiL had frozen to grill, that should be fine I thought as I set the table.

My MiL came in just as I was putting the finishing touches to the platter, "you made those kebabs Fatima, I was going to make them...you know Bilal is so fussy he won't eat the same thing twice in Ramadaan, becharo only eats all this too, I will have to make something else"

I just bit my tongue and carried the platter to the table, my Nanis words ringing loud in my head, "Barbie, meri yaad karjoor...sabir is your best friend in 'happy marriage life'"...saabir it is, for you Nani Ma.

After I prayed my Esha I saw a text from my mother and decided to call her, I fetched the cordless from the lounge and took it to my room to hear all my mothers stories...her voice has always been such a comfort for me.
"salaams mummy, how are you and papa?
gee I am well, Imraan is good too
gee his not back yet, hows Kala after that break in?she feeling better?
No. I can't hear any echo on the phone, must be something wrong with your line..."

As I listened to my mothers account of the break in on the same road as my Kala with all the dramatic effects that made me smile to myself, I realized I had left my cellphone in the lounge after calling my mother, I hmmmed and haaaaad appropriately as I made my way back to find my phone.

In the lounge my MiL was sitting, ear pressed against the receiver of the house phone, her hand cupped onto the mouthpiece!I starred in shock...

"...oh Fatima, sorry sorry, maaf my bethi I didn't know you were using the phone, salaams to you Mumtaz , I just picked up in the lounge to phone my sister, whole Ramadaan month went I never speak to her yet, nevermind but, take your time...I'll phone her sehri time, right salaams then"

...oh this was just sweet, excuse me while I scrape my jaw off the porcelain tiles...

Part 1-Round, round rotis

Zzzz zzzz zzzz...zzzz zzzz zzzz

The massage chair was vibrating luxuriously, I almost purred...

Zzzzz zzz zzzz...zzzz zzzz zzzz

My eyes flew open as my lovely dream fell to pieces, I reached under my pillow and pulled out my phone, the 3am alarm I set was going off. I hit cancel and yawned, I kept my alarm on vibrate only so it wouldn't disturb my husband.

Why is it so hard to wake up for sehri once you pass the 15th roza, you don't know what to make and eat anymore. Last year I didn't have to think, my mother thought for me, but now...leave thinking for me, I had to think for the rest of the house too.

I quietly drag myself to the bathroom to wash up, I then sleepily make my way to the kitchen. First things first, light switch then kettle...ain't no guji girl gona manage this early without a cup of tea, I think to myself.

I quickly pull out all the little Tupperware's I need from the fridge. I giggle to myself, if my mother knew I use my brand new Tupperware set to store raw chopped onions, she would flip. "Areh, Fatima!The smell will never come out!"

I have to keep everything ready , its insanity to be cooking at this time of the morning, leave alone chopping things.

I heat the oil and begin frying the onions to make the mince and aloo curry. While the curry braises I roll the rotis and toast them with ghee on the tahwaa, fresh fresh...just the way Mummy taught me.

I remember when I was little and learning to make roti, mummy use to shout me to make them round-round..."Fatima!someday you going to get married and what will your in-laws say when they see these Mickey Mouses you make!"..."Theri Ma nee hikoo" my Dadi would chirp in. (they will think you took me to Disney land, I use to say in my head)

I still remember the look on my mothers face when we came for supper shortly after my engagement and she saw the square rotis my soon to be mother-in-law served up. My Dadi and mother complained the whole way home..."kawe lagoo...kayni sarum chi? Mejwaan wasste ammtaa kiddoo, che che"
I just laughed, they where pissed they wasted time teaching me to roll round, and anyway at least it wasn't easy way out Midway rotis.

I sipped my tea while I laid out the cereals and warmed the leftover savories and milk. I love cereal with cold milk like a 'Gorie' but Surtis' just got to turn crunchy cereal into mushy porridge. What's with the fresh fresh curry too? As if cooking it the night before will make it stale...

I quickly finished off the prep and knocked on my MiLs door..."its sehri time mummy" I loudly whisper.
I go back to my room and turn on the lamp, I gently nudge my hubby...sehri time baby, he mumbles okay and I go to make wudu.

By the time I get back to the dinning room my MiL is already there, "Fatima you should have woke me up to help you bethi"
"It's no problem mummy, I hope everything is okay but"
"jee...jee"

(you mean to say she couldn't hear me in the kitchen right across her room? Tomorrow I'll be sure to bang pots and slam cabinet doors for her and my SiLs to hear)

My husband barely says a word at sehri, just quietly has his cereal and few savories. My FiL on the other hand gives bayaan after bayaan, punctuating each point with mince and roti koriyos...

I just feel so sleepy but I'm already thinking what to make for iftaar...

Introduction

From the generation where Guji means Jerroo instead of Jerra, you get young brides with new recipes, assertive daughter-in-laws that don't know their 'place' and all the masalaa and chutney of joint family living.
 'The Real Diary of a Guji Wife' is a frictional social-cultural commentary and played up stereotypes for entertainment purposes only.
Fatima is a young wife juggling early marriage, work, family responsibility, culture and religion.
Her private thoughts, tales and commentary as she observes, rejects and balances her life is captured on her private online diary...
But...Oh Mari Ma!!!...looks like somebody leaked the Aloo Ghose Sevro on her...coz we all getting the hawaaat!

Before anybody burns their samoosas, gets heartburn and drops lemon seeds in the haleem, let me just say :
This story  is for amusement purposes only and a work of fiction.  In no way do characters reflect upon any one person, rather they are a stereotypical reflection of a community. If you can identify with or think its somebody you know, you just typically typical.
Oh, and yes, this is a 'spin-off' of another blog...but it is by no means a rip
-off.

welcome to it.

errors will be many, if you can't stand it, send me an email, you can be my editor.