Wrong Family
comedyEveryoneI told myself I'd just drive past. Just to look. Fine — there was a box of gulab jamun on the passenger seat. Just in case. The white car was real. The house was real. Balloons on the gate said WELCOME. A woman on the porch spotted my car and waved with both arms. Her: "DESSERT IS HERE!" Fifteen faces appeared at the window. There was no driving past now.
Grandma met me at the door, hands still dusted with flour. Grandma: "So you're the wrong number." Me: "That's me." I held out the gulab jamun. She weighed the box in one hand and nodded once. I passed. Grandma: "You're taller than you sound." She sat me between two aunties who refilled my plate every time I looked away. By the end of the night, the chat's name had changed to FAMILY DINNER PLANNING + 1. The +1 is me. Permanently.