#Spring Love, #Pichal Pairi#Spring Love, #Pichal Pairi by Usman T. Malik
My rating: 4/5 cats
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She licked her lips. “Are you hungry?” she said. “I’m hungry.” I must have looked worried, for she said, “For some chicken, moron.”

Which is how the pichal pairi and I went to eat Shahi Murgh Chanay at Lakshmi.

i’ll be honest, i didn’t think i was going to like this one. the romance, the hashtaggy title, the teeth-grittingly, cringe-inducing description of farah as Woke, but somehow vintage at the same time; all signs pointed to Not for Me.

and yet…

as it went on, once the sweet meet-cuterie of it all progressed into something more interesting, more weighty, once a goldang pandemic was introduced into the story, well—now you have my attention, kiddo.

actually, it had my attention here:

Were you ever bullied as a kid, Farah?

What do you think, genius?

I’m so sorry.

It’s okay.

Was it at school?


Did you get mad?

A little. On the first moonless night of my adolescent cycle I ate him.

but it sustained my attention once the stakes were raised beyond 🎵’boy and pichal pairi sittin’ in a tree,’🎵 and i really liked the direction it scuttled off into.

it pays to Try New Things.

read it for yourself here:…

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