Idli, once again. Not again. He screamed mentally. If he was audible to the world, the glasses of the restaurant would have broken already. On any other bright day, he would have probably clicked a picture of the authentic south food Indian food placed in front of him and flaunted it on a fancy social networking site but it was not one of those other days. It was his freaking life which was in despair. He simply couldn't take the South Indian cuisine anymore. Dipping those rounded steamed things in a watery liquid named chutney and sweet Sambhar just didn't give a breezy start to his day whatsoever. Even the lunches didn't delight him per se. Rice. Every freaking day. What was a weekly or may be a monthly affair for him at home became a daily one. Rice was as important as salt for people here. No rice, no lunch. Heck no rice as an intermediary, no breakfast even except for some rare occasions. Ever since he had shifted to the small city in the southern part of the country, his dreams were made of delicacies like Chole bhature and some Rajma chawal. He craved them like a pregnant lady craved for some odd snacks at odd hours. North Indian dishes in even North Indian restaurants had a southern flavor. He once saw curry leaves staring at him from his plate of Rajma Chawal. He had almost cried that day.
He even tried hiring a cook but things were a disaster. The cook had known only two dishes and would make them alternatively on weekdays. On weekends he took a break. Moreover, the guy felt too lazy to cook food with filter water, as he thought the filter tap was taking a long time to fill up the bowl and also he wasn't really keen on letting the gravy come together. He said, watery curry would make it easier for him to eat with rice and hit him with a wide toothy grin. He sighed, what else could he have done.
Thanks to his plight, He was becoming one grumpy uncle, the ones whom he used to tease as a kid. Karma was hitting him back very soon, albeit with those little steamed things.
As he walked entered his floor of the building, looking dejected, he noticed some commotion, celebration like commotion. Of course, it had something to do with Karthik, his neighbor. This man didn't need a reason to celebrate or be happy. Even a small change in his mundane life would make him beam. This time he was accompanied by his cousin, Geetha. She didn't share a lot of similarities with Karthik definitely. Whenever she would see him, she would roll her eyes without a fail. At times, he wondered if he looked that worn out and exhausted. Why else would she behave as if he had stolen her lollipop? He would never want her curry leaves flavored lollypops anyway, he cursed under his breath.
As Karthik greeted him gently, he looked at the guy leaving his house. They waited until the man left his place, that is when Karthik turned and looked at Maan.
"I have hired a new cook and he is from from Nepal." He gave a gleeful smile.
Maan narrowed his brows and looked at him, "Do they cook something that is not South Indian? Or can they at least make momos?" He asked with slight hope cropping up.
"Macha, That is so racist"
Maan looked at him with his eyes widened, Now what was so f**king racist in his question, he was just being a hopeful kid.
"Do you think these people only eat momos?"
Well he most definitely didn't say that.
"Whatever, Maan. I am sure he will forgive you for such generalizations. Besides, his family has spent all his life in South. He is an expert at cooking South Indian dishes. Why would I hire a Northie cook. Anyway, I will have to leave for now, Come Geetha, let's go"
"Kartik you go, I'll come in a while." She looked at Maan, she looked serious about something. How did it matter to him anyway.
"Ok fine, bye."
For once, Maan was the one who rolled eyes at her. Even Karthik wasn't any less annoying, probably. Meanwhile he saw her staring at him, scanning him from top to bottom, is she?
She nodded her head in disappointment.. "What is your problem in life brother? What do you want from it?"
"Bye. " He said as he dismissed her off.
"Wait. See...do you want me to cook for you? "
He stopped and looked, "Come again?
"Would you want to hire me as your cook?" she repeated as she continued
"See, I came to do a course here, I was searching for a part time job for some financial assistance. I can cook decent North Indian food. Learnt it from my neighbors. So if you don't mind, then..."
She paused as he looked at her confused.
"If you can cook, why do you not cook for your cousin? He seemed to be in need of some cook too?"
"Beacuse I can't take money from him, and I don't have enough time to cook for him for free."
"But I don't think he will be comfortable with this arrangement."
"Boss, he doesn't really give a shit about what I do. And everybody here is struggling to survive in way or the other. How does it even matter? You think too much, I'm telling you."
He still didn't seem convinced.
"So, done with my interview?"
"I really don't know, Geetha"
He looked at her with a dash of hopelessness and confusion, as she did it again, rolled her eyes, Damn! How much did he hate it. "Okay, then goodbye. She waved.
"Okay, wait. I'll hire you. Let's talk about the money."
"Cool. She smiled. "But before that, what are momos by the way?
"Oh they are these steamed little things with.."
"Oh like the Idli?"
"No no..completely different. Let me tell you..."
"Leave it, Not really interested. Let's talk money for now."
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