The following day, Anjali Bhabhi took me shopping at GVK One Mall, where she expertly assisted me in selecting a variety of attire—from casual outfits and traditional sarees to comfortable maxi dresses suitable for home wear. By 1 pm, feeling the midday hunger, we ventured to the mall's food court for lunch. Eager to try a local favourite, I ordered Chicken Mandi Biryani, a dish highly recommended by friends familiar with Hyderabad's culinary scene. Anjali Bhabhi opted for a lighter meal of Rasam rice accompanied by papad.
As we began our meal, it quickly became apparent that the portion of Chicken Mandi was far too generous for one. I looked over at Anjali Bhabhi, hoping she might share the dish with me. However, she offered a gentle smile and explained, "Sorry dear, I can't eat non-veg today; it's Thursday. Why don't you have them pack the leftovers? That way, you can enjoy it at home later." Her suggestion was practical, though I felt a slight disappointment at not being able to share the meal with her.
I responded cheerfully, "Okay, I'll share it with Ashwin then." Anjali Bhabhi quickly interjected, clarifying a crucial detail, "Ashwin is vegetarian. He gave up eating non-veg a long time ago, alongside his father." Realising my oversight, I felt a bit embarrassed. She added, "Also, please don't prepare anything non-veg tomorrow, and don't worry about making breakfast; we will have brunch together. Why don't you come to my house in the morning? We'll celebrate Ugadi together." Smiling, I agreed, excited by the prospect of experiencing a new cuisine and celebrating the festival with her.
We then visited a puja store to gather items for Ugadi. During our shopping, my phone rang—it was my Aunt Aruna. Stepping aside, I answered, "Yes, aunt?" Her voice carried a serious tone as she instructed, "Dolly, tomorrow is Gudi Padwa. Make sure to prepare everything at home." She paused briefly before continuing, "First, check if your husband has any reservations about you observing this." Puzzled, I questioned, "Why would he have a problem with it?" Her tone softened slightly, though her concern remained evident. "Because they are Bihari, not Maharashtrian; they don’t typically celebrate Gudi Padwa." She then added a cautionary note, "Never mind, just ensure you have Ashwin's approval before proceeding with any plans." She promised to have my uncle send me a list of everything I would need.
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Thankfully, we were still in the puja store, so the shopkeeper was able to assist us in selecting all the necessary items for Gudi Padwa, ensuring that I was well-prepared for the festivities.
"Bhabhi, it looks like I won't be able to come over in the morning; we're celebrating Gudi Padwa tomorrow," I explained. Anjali Bhabhi nodded in understanding, "That's okay, I had forgotten you're Maharashtrian. Actually, Ugadi and Gudi Padwa are essentially the same festival, just known by different names in different regions."
Surprised by her understanding, I remarked, "Bhabhi, you're quite knowledgeable." She smiled and replied, "One of my friends is Maharashtrian, so I've learned a bit from her. She always gives me puran poli on this day." Excitedly, I clapped my hands and invited her, "Then you must come to my house! I make very good puran poli. Please, come for lunch."
"Sure, I'll come and also bring some Telugu dishes for you," Anjali Bhabhi replied warmly. We both laughed as we made our way to the car. After a pleasant drive, Anjali Bhabhi kindly dropped me off at my flat before continuing on her way home.
In the evening, when Ashwin returned from work, I eagerly approached him with a question that had been on my mind, "Ashwin, will you celebrate Gudi Padwa with me?" His smile broadened as he responded, "Of course, it will be our first festival as a married couple." Curious about his traditions, I then asked, "What do you celebrate in place of Gudi Padwa?" Ashwin scratched his head thoughtfully before answering, "We observe Chaitra Navratri. If you'd like to celebrate it, you should ask Ma for the details; I’m not too familiar with the specifics myself."
Nodding, I ventured another question, "Can I eat non-veg in your house?" Ashwin looked slightly startled by the inquiry but responded thoughtfully, "I have no issues with you eating non-veg, but could you wait a few days? I'll arrange for a separate stove and utensils specifically for non-veg. It's not about discrimination; I'm just personally uncomfortable with it." His earnest and somewhat nervous explanation made me laugh. He seemed so adorable and cautiously considerate at that moment. I had the urge to pull his cheeks but lacked the courage to actually do it.