Boy vs. Girl by Na'ima B. Robert Read Free Book Online

sealing it away. It was all right as long as she didn’t hear his voice. So he could call as much as he wanted. There was no way she was going to speak to him.
    * * *
    When Farhana came downstairs again, she had exchanged her wet school uniform for her favourite
shalwar kameez
, the turquoise one with silverembroidery. Everyone always said that it brought out the colour of her green eyes. Plus she wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from her grandmother about the fit of her clothes.
    She was greeted in the kitchen by the sight of her mother and aunties all at different stages of the samosa-making process. Ummerji was making the filling – frying the spices, onions and garlic until their smell filled the room, browning the mince.
    Auntie Sajda was filling the little squares of filo pastry, folding each one into a neat triangle before putting them in a cloth-covered bowl that was already piled high. Auntie Anisa was overseeing the frying, peering into the deep-fat fryer with a look of intense concentration on her face.
    They all turned when she came in, their faces warm with smiles and the heat of the kitchen. Farhana greeted them all in turn, hugging her aunties and kissing her grandmother on the cheek. Then she pulled up a chair and started filling pastry.
    â€œNot like that, Farhana,” scolded Auntie Sajda gently. “Watch me. You have to fold the corners, like this, just so.”
    Farhana did as she was told. She was usedto being bossed around in the kitchen. After all, that was how she had learned to make roti when she was fourteen.
    â€œIt’s been a long time since I saw Farhana in a
shalwar kameez
, Uzma.” Auntie Anisa’s voice was teasing as she looked Farhana up and down.
    â€œWell,” barked Naneeji, “at least it’s better than those terrible skinny jeans she is always wearing!”
    They all laughed again and Uzma gave her daughter a hug.
    â€œBut you know,” Naneeji continued, “the
shalwar kameez
these days are so different to the ones we used to wear, even the ones you girls used to wear. Those
shalwar
were modest, they didn’t show your shape. Nowadays, a girl can be wearing
shalwar kameez
and be showing everything at the same time!”
    â€œUmmerji,” said Auntie Sajda, looking over at her mother, “you and Babaji used to make us wear
shalwar kameez
at home, even when we didn’t want to!”
    â€œAnd
always
with a
dupatta
!” added Auntie Anisa. “Remember how you used to beat me because I kept losing mine?”
    â€œYou were a very careless girl,” answeredNaneeji, wagging her finger at her daughter. “And anyway,
shalwar kameez
was our culture, our way. We didn’t want you dressing like a
gori,
a white girl. That was OK for school – but not at home. Your father would never have allowed it!”
    â€œYeah, but look at us now” snorted Auntie Sajda. “As
gori
as they come!”
    â€œOh, I love to wear
shalwar kameez
!” cried Ummerji. “They are just so elegant and comfortable. I could never have enough of them…”
    â€œWhich is great because I get to borrow them!” Farhana piped up. She was used to her aunties and other adults talking about her rather than to her – it was definitely a
desi
thing, an Asian thing. Forty years of living in England hadn’t managed to change that. Although sometimes she wished they would listen more and talk less. But just as she was deciding whether to speak up again or not, the doorbell rang.
    â€œGo and get the door, Farhana,” ordered Naneeji. “But ask who it is before you open it!”
    Farhana smiled ruefully and got up. Her grandmother just could not help playing the matriarch! She looked through the peep hole and immediately yanked the door open.
    â€œAuntie Naj!” she squealed, a huge smile on her face.
    â€œ
Asalaamu alaikum
, Farhana-baby!”
    Farhana laughed and the two of them embraced on the