"Aklima, I have never done this before..." Fahrukh hesitated before looking quizzically at his girlfriend.

"If we were always scared of doing things we never did before, then you wouldn't have been born, Fahrukh!" said Aklima with her tinny laugh.

The teenagers were both sitting on the couch. The 60 inch 4K TV was off but the screen still reflected the couple in stark clarity as if to taunt them on what they are missing out on. Fahrukh's parents were out for the evening, going to the rooftops of those lavish hotels in Gulshan to spend some time alone—in the middle of a party.

"I don't know... I never did it myself before. It always... happened. I don't know," said Fahrukh. 

"Are you saying that you never even saw someone doing this before? Are you being serious?" 

"Yes," the tiny voice of Fahrukh replied.

"You mean to say that you never even saw someone on the streets doing it even? You're bound to see it sometime." Aklima's voice cracked in exasperation. 

"My Pajero's windows are tinted," whimpered Fahrukh.

"Oh God. This is absolutely unreal," Aklima replied.

"Well, you don't have to do it if you don't want to," Fahrukh's voice swelled with indignation, "I only asked you because I trust you and have no one else to turn to with this. Honestly, it's embarrassing."

Aklima softened her expression.

"What about when you were growing up? I'm sure you seen it... on, erm, the TV?" 

Her eyes lit up. 

"The computer?" she asked. 

"I don't know. It was always covered or under pyjamas. Never out there. And you know I don't spend my time watching the junk they produce on the internet that turns your brain into mush. I'm better than that," said a proud Fahrukh.

"Alright, then. I guess we better start. This is going nowhere." Aklima was finally over her initial surprise.

"Well, first you have to grab it at the base. Hold it firmly, but not too firm or else you'll regret it. Then you pinch the tip and slide it downwards," she demonstrated peeling the banana, "See? It's that easy."