Hand in Hand

Two servings of biryani were served plus two glasses of orange juice. Seeing the large piece of chicken thigh perched on top of the yellow rice made Praveen even more hungry. He took a sip of the juice first to moisten his throat and then said,

"Let's eat. I'm getting hungry,"

"But I still want to hear from you, Prav!" Zoya half insisted. Praveen stared at her.

"You just called me, what?"

"Prav! Why?"

Praveen smiled. There was a blush on his face.

"I'm glad you call me that. This is the first time someone calling my name like that. Sounds fun too."

Zoya smiled back. She also wondered why suddenly mentioned Praveen's name by shortening it.

"Come on, tell me about yourself even if we want to eat. I want to know!"

"I already told you! There's nothing more to tell," said Praveen starting to eat. Of course he didn't want to say that his mother raised him by selling vegetables at the Chandrapur market because his father had died of TB. Or how he worked in a pottery factory to raise money to