“You should’ve told me you don’t drink tea”, announces the host. I nod but she hadn’t asked. Lips press against four cups of chai while the fifth gets cold in the best china.

The dastarkhan is rolled out onto the carpet with two types of parathas, chicken nuggets and white toast laid out. Each time I finish one thing, I am offered another. 

I eat slowly as it’s my third meal of the day and it’s not even noon. I had breakfast at home, a second breakfast at my aunt’s and now refreshments at the in-laws of a sibling.

“Can we leave in an hour?”, I ask my sister when we have the room to ourselves.

“It’ll seem rude. Let’s go in 2-3 hours”, is her response. I groan and switch sides. Sitting on the floor is uncomfortable. 

We alternate between eating, staring into our laps and polite talk. The host comments she should’ve bought juice as well. I am surprised to learn that three year olds sit admission tests for a grade which isn’t the lowest.

The dastarkhan is taken away and brought back a short while later, this time with different kinds of nuts. I grab a solitary walnut.

When our ride finally arrives, we get up with sore legs.

“You didn’t eat anything”, says the host when we’re saying goodbye. She asks me to visit again.

I think of smiling but settle for a noncommittal response. We return to my aunt’s where we refuse lunch and trudge off to a family friend’s home a few hours later where she peels us mandarins and bananas. The bananas are smaller and sweeter than what I’m used to. My stomach approves.

*Dastarkhan is a plastic mat used for serving food on the floor in Pakistan and other countries.