One picture one story steemit Pakistan

It was a hot, humid evening in Karachi. Badruddin arrived home tired from the office, and the delicious aroma of tandoori chicken immediately dispelled his fatigue. He smiled as he took off his shoes.

His wife, Wasubiya, came out of the kitchen. She had ordered Badruddin’s favorite dish today—fresh tandoori chicken, spicy potato wedges, warm naan, and milky mint raita in two gleaming steel bowls.

“You look very tired today, honey,” Wasubiya said softly, handing him a glass of cold water.

Badruddin took a sip of water and took a deep breath. “Today was a tough day, but I forget everything when I get home when you prepare all this.”

The two sat down on the old floral tablecloth, which had been there since their wedding. Badruddin immediately reached out and picked up a large, crispy piece of tandoori chicken. The skin, coated in red chilies and spices, crunched under his teeth. As soon as he took the first bite, his eyes closed.

"Subhan Allah! Just as delicious as you used to make in the first months of our marriage."

Wasubiya laughed. "You still like to eat with your hands, you don't even look at the spoon."

"Not today at all!" Badruddin said and tore off another piece and handed it to Wasubiya. "You also eat with me."

Wasubiya shyly tore off a piece of bread, put spicy potatoes in it, poured raita on top and started eating. Badruddin also tore off the bread, wrapped the chicken meat in it and ate it in one bite. The juice was flowing from his fingers but he didn't care.

While eating, Badruddin said softly,
"Remember when we were newly married? The salary was very low, but once a week you used to say, 'We will have tandoori chicken today'. Then both of us would eat together and talk all night long."
Wasubiya looked at him with a smile.
"It's still the same. Only now the salary has increased, but the pleasure of sitting and eating with you is the same."
Badruddin held Wasubiya's hand, which was wet with chicken fat.
"You are the greatest blessing, Wasubiya. No matter how tired I come, sharing this plate with you makes everything better."
Wasubiya's eyes moistened. She pressed Badruddin's hand lightly.
"And without you, this meal also seems incomplete."
That night, the two of them sat for a long time. The chicken pieces were gone, only small pieces of naan were left, the bowls of raita were licked. Outside, the streets of Karachi were noisy, but in their house there was only love, smiles, memories and the pleasure of home.
Sometimes the greatest joy in life is in sitting with a simple plate of tandoori chicken and your beloved. ❤️

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