Who Knew...

Chapter 2

         Not to mention that it was already hot in India, the baggy and sweaty robe couldn't have made it any worse.  We left the ceremony and I changed in a nearby bathroom.  Was I glad to get that robe off me.

        "Challo, Poonam!" my Amma said.  We were going out to eat to celebrate.  My Amma was incredibly proud of me.  So was my dadaji, but it would be a miracle if you ever see him off the phone.  Dadaji worked  in one of India's biggest companies.  So even if dadaji is physically home, he is mentally at work 24/7.  

          We get out of the richaw taxi.  Our car was being fixed at the moment, so we had to take the richaw taxi.  I look up and see the sign: "Fine and Tasty India", I read out loud.  This was my favorite resturaunt since i was about four years old.

             I place my shoes outside, and step on the cold marble.  I open the door and a variety of amazing aromas meet my nose.  I smell the the herbs and spices, the curry and rice,  the mouthwatering jelabi.  I could hear my payal, anklets, as i rush in to my favorite table. 

                  I took a seat at the table in the middle of the entire restuarant.  Every time I come here, I pick this very table.  One time when i was seven, and I came here was another family already sitting at my table.  I threw a tantrum and the whole resturaunt was staring at me.  My parents embarassed, was trying there best to shut me up.  I remember the manager shouting at me,"Cupa Rahō!, shut up!"  Now when we think back, we always end up laughing!

                  I took a seat, impatiently waiting for a waiter to take our order.  My family comes and sits down.  After a few minutes of waiting, I hear glass shattering on the floor.  I look up and a few feet away, a boy about her age in a waiter uniform was being scolded at by the manager.

                   For a second I felt sympathetic, but  I was too hungry at the moment to really care.  The manager finally stops scolding the boy and points to our table.  The boy comes over, looking hurt then a look of nonchalance.  I was going to order my favorite puffy bread naan and butter chichen curry.  When the waiter boy was asking my dad what he wants, I got distracted by a crying baby.  I glance around, and finally spotted the baby.

                    What an adorable little baby.  The baby had pink cheeks, hazel eyes with a sparkle, which I found quite special.  The crying baby caught my eye and for a second gave me a look of disgust.  So I made a goofy duck face, and the baby burst out laughing.  For some reason, that baby made me feel an inner sparkle.  I turned around back to my family and asked my  dad if he ordered my naan bread and butter chicken curry.  He nodded and went back talking on his phone.  I heard the familiar crying again.  I had'nt realized that the baby started crying when i turned away.  So I look back and saw the baby.  The baby immediatly stopped crying and burst out laughing again!  His mother looked at the baby with confusion.  

                          I saw the waiter boy, who broke the glasses, coming back with our food to our table.  Then again I heard the crying baby, so I looked back.  Everything was fine:  the baby was laughing, I was making goofy faces at the baby.  But then, the next thing I know is hot orange, curry was spilled all over my white dress.  My skin was burning, and  my expensive dress was ruined.  I look up in anger and saw that clumsy waiter boy standing in front of me, shocked.  He was holding a tray with a bowl tipped over, covered in orange, hot, curry.  I look up at his name tag and it said...