Paneer Butter Masala! 💓
Startled by
the bell rings at the door, I went into the restaurant. Confusion took over the
place of surprise, as there were foreigners more than Indian people. All the
tables were full, and a single table was almost impossible to find. I took the
help of a kind waiter, made him understand my Indian accent and acquired a
single-person table.
I was at Flavours
Of India, Sydney. It was my first time in any foreign country and I was much
more alienated by bread and lettuce slices. I wanted to make myself at home
for the next 6 months, so I thought of finding Indian friends here.
The menu had
calligraphed letters, reading traditional Indian dishes. With my chest swelling
of pride, I called the waiter and ordered Paneer Butter Masala with Garlic
Naan. Instantly after ordering, I felt relaxed, as my next work involved no interaction
with people there.
It was
pretty hard to spot Indian-looking people there, but my hunger for Indian
people made me spot a lady. She was attending a video call, but without headphones.
I took mine and advanced to her table. I extended my hands to give it to her. A
boy shouted “Happy Birthday Nithya!” from her tablet, while she was overwhelmed
to speak. But my ‘Headphone Sympathy with a wish’ received a glaring look from
her spectacled face. I reverted back to my table.
Before the dish came to my table, the Indian aroma announced the arrival of my dish.
Carefully poured into a neat, deep and narrow bowl, the tangy-looking dish was
perfectly decorated with coriander leaves. While the Garlic Naan was placed in
an aluminium foil-covered Bamboo dish, Paneer Butter Masala earned all my
attention with its great appetite.
With the
Paneer cut in perfect cubes, lightly charred until the golden colour, it was ludicrously
infused with the velvety gravy. I took a piece of Naan and served myself with
some gravy. I rolled the cube and my hands carried it to my mouth, as the gravy
dripped on my shirt. The paneer was so delicate, and I could feel the
full-bodied flavour deep in the cube, making me forget the evergreen
gravy-stain. While I thought it was a bit fiercy, it also had a bit of
sweetness in it. Just as Sanjana’s lunch box.
*****
I waited
for her gang to leave the room. After they left, I found her lunch box, buried
deep inside her school bag. She faked that, she didn’t bring lunch! So clever
of her! But she was so stupid to think that I can’t sniff Paneer!
I forced
my hands into the box, tore Chapatis and ate it in the ugliest way I could.
She never gave more than a small piece, which would never satisfy my love for
her (Paneer). But, she came in, before I could replace it with my potato gravy.
“What the
hell!”, she shouted enough, to attract students in the corridor.
All I managed
to do, was to grin. That’s the best to do while having pieces of chapatis in
your mouth.
“Don’t
freaking grin at me! I would’ve given you an extra piece if you had asked! Why are
you always in a haste!”, she screamed at me.
Even though
she screamed and shouted at me, she never said never to do that again. She was
just irritated by the act but was never furious at me. I loved everything she
cooks. Especially the Paneer Butter Masala she made. Out of the world. Her anger would fly off along the 6th
period bell. But, I never got to steal her food again. She left the school
abruptly, and I never got to know, whether she attending her 11th in
some other school.
*****
While my
senses arrived back to Sydney, the spectacled girl was no more there. I dipped
the Naan piece into the gravy furiously, for missing the only Indian in the
restaurant. While I was gobbling the Naans, a fine lady calmly reached my
table. The golden badge on her Indian attire read ‘Sanjana Ravichandran, CEO’.
She handed
me my Aadhar Card, which I have kept with the bill, while my Credit Card slept
in my wallet. “Turn on your senses, Eat slowly, unless you’re gonna run away
without paying!”, she said, smiling.
I laughed, we
laughed, while I took another bite of the refreshing dish.
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