Shri, a writer from Malaysia who had always dreamed of visiting Japan and Misao, a Geisha from Kyoto with a kind heart and an interest for Indian movies. A love between two people from two different worlds who meet but are forced to part because of...
Mitsuo stared at the Indian stall's menu as he tried to decide what to have. Most of the names he recognised like thosai, nasi lemak, and roti canai. He didn't know what idli was but soon found it to be plump white disks served with curry. "What is it made of?" Mitsuo asked. "Ulunthu and rice," the shopkeeper said. "What's ulun thu?" Mitsuo asked, not quite understanding the word. "You know thosai or not?" The lady asked. Mitsuo nodded. "Yes, I do." "Idli and thosai is made with the same thing only. Both also vegan." Mitsuo nodded and ordered a glass of fresh cow's milk and two idli with curry since one seemed to be far too small for a meal. "What curry you want?" The lady asked, much to Mitsuo's dismay. "Chutney, sambar, or sambal?" "Umm... dhal?" "Dhal don't have, sambar only got," the lady said, her hand pointing at the ladle poking out of the sambar canister. Mitsuo shrugged, not really sure what the difference was. "I think that should be okay." The lady nodded and took down the order before asking him to have a seat at one of the bench tables to wait. Mitsuo shrugged and decided to pay first before going over to the nearest bench. The lady's attendant soon came up and placed a plate of two idli with a generous amount of sambar and placed it in front of Mitsuo, together with glass of fresh hot milk. Mitsuo bowed and thanked the young woman before turning to his door. The food court was empty, save for him and another young Chinese man who sat a little way off with his back to him. The meal was served with no cutlery nor did the glass of milk he ordered had a straw. Having no straw was fine but how on earth would he eat the idli? Mitsuo wasn't sure and pulled out his cutlery kit that had everything from straws to chopsticks. He dropped a slanted metal straw into his glass and pulled out the chopsticks to devour his idli. He started by cutting the idli into smaller pieces with the knife he had before picking up the pieces with the chopsticks, dipping them into the curry to eat. It felt like dipping sushi into soy sauce but with curry and idli instead. The shopkeeper was staring at him in surprise, leaning against the counter with her mouth agape and eyes widened, her attendant looking just as interested beside her. He then heard another voice and looked up to see the other guy, now sitting facing him, shouting something in Chinese. The only thing that Mitsuo understood was the loud AIYO! he uttered before lapsing into Chinese. It was then did Mitsuo notice how the other man had also been eating idli, with his hand and not cutlery. Now Mitsuo really felt like an ostrich in the middle of the city. But then he spotted the other guy pulling his phone out to record. "Hold up, stop recording me!" Mitsuo held his left hand up at him. "I'm not Malaysian and I'm not used to eating with bare hands, okay?" The Chinese guy looked sheepish as he lowered his phone. "Sorry." "It's fine, but I feel like you shouldn't record strangers as you wish," Mitsuo got up and went over, bringing his plate along with him, much to the other man's surprise. Upon closer inspection, Mitsuo noticed that he wasn't as old as he had thought, maybe in his late teens. "Could you please delete that video?" "Okay, okay," the boy quickly said, fiddling with his phone. "Sorry, Uncle." "Do I really look that old?" Mitsuo looked at him in surprise before going back his spot. Mitsuo decided it was best to just read his book while he ate, ignoring the Chinese boy sitting in front of him. He still kept an eye on him, though, and soon saw him making his way towards the sink to wash up. Mitsuo didn't pay him much mind and just focussed on his meal and book. He suddenly spotted a Toyota Camry pulling up in front of the hawker centre, followed by a familiar man sitting at the driver seat. It was Jonathan, impatiently honking with his eyes narrowed in his direction. Mitsuo raised his book slightly to cover his face, since he didn't want him to know that he was still in Malaysia, and watched as the young man who tried to record him earlier let out a groan and make his way towards the front passenger seat of the car. He started arguing with Jonathan as soon as he got in. The way they were acting reminded him of Shree and Vasu's usual squabbles. Mitsuo's eyes widened at the realisation. They. Were. Brothers. There was no doubt, Mitsuo was sure of it since they looked alike, acted really casual towards one another, and were even bickering. Mitsuo didn't really know what it was like to have siblings, sometimes wishing for a brother or sister, but he knew it involved unnecessary squabbles. Mitsuo's face contorted in disgust as he shook his head. Why were these guys everywhere? The father bothering them whenever they went to see Shruti, Jonathan whenever they step out into the streets of Petaling Jaya. And now this guy. He even called him uncle for crying out loud. Mitsuo knew he was younger than him, but not that much younger. It still bothered him. Did he really look that old? Mitsuo hoped he didn't. Then again, the Wangs weren't really in his good books in the first place, having a very bad habit of prying into Shree's life in the name of Devi's good friend. Best part was the fact that even Devi herself didn't seem to genuinely see Sherry as a good friend. Maybe the fact that she had Evil Eyes was right. Well, at least they were both gone now. And his meal was done too. Mitsuo spotted the old man who sold taufufah open the shutters of his stall and smiled to himself. He decided to get some for Shree too since her house was pretty nearby.
Not many people know that dhal and sambar isn't the same thing, including myself until a few years ago. This is because they both have similar taste, but still different, and is made with two different types of pulses. Another thing is, dhal is thick and chunky compared to sambar. Sambar contains a lot of other things like vegetables, carrots, tamarind, while dhal is just... dhal. Also, the phrase 'ostrich in the middle of the city' is a homage to how an ACTUAL ostrich was found galloping in the middle of the Federal Highway a few years ago. It was at the KL side of the highway, in Pantai, I think, and said ostrich somehow escaped a transporting lorry and was spotted running in the highway. I think the poor thing ended up in the ditch but was still unharmed and safely taken to the Ostrich Farm in Port Dickson.
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Apparently, it's a six-month-old named Chickaboo. The incident was also subject to a lot of memes.
