Rediscover

3. discarded proposals

The yellow bulb grew bright, fighting against the darkness of the night. It hung over the steaming pan of a diameter of a good sixty centimetres. The sound of clatter and the hooting of people filled my senses.

The man poured a little oil over the stove and increased the fire. Behind us, a throng of people stood leisurely in wait for their turn.

I watched as the man expertly pulled out a fistful of the white dough and slammed it against the marble plate. After patting it a few times to make a fat circle, he pulled out the roller and rolled it into a perfect circle. Another man stood beside him, peering over the large pot steaming with spicy chicken.

The sharp aroma of spices took over my senses and activated my taste buds. My excitement grew at the thought of rebelling against my gruelling diet and eating things I loved the most.

"You look like a dog," Akash muttered into my ear.

He stood close to me, his chest plastered to my side because of the crowds.

I stuck my tongue out at him and turned to look at the man again.

The man was now flipping the rolled dough onto the large pan garnished with oil. While he waited for the paratha to bake, he began to roll more dough into large circles. I watched as the sides of the paratha turned a delicate golden and he flipped it. Then he scooped a bowl full of cooked chicken and placed it carefully on the paratha.

Grabbing some onions and capsicums, he spread them over the chicken and rolled the paratha, folding it at the extremes. He wrapped a butter paper over it and handed the hot Roll to me.

I grasped it with a greedy hand and Akash held my elbow as we pushed out of the crowd. He was holding his bowl of gobi manchurian carefully.

We stood by a tall tree with him leaning on the trunk. People milled about around us, indulging their taste buds.

I moaned as I took a bite. "This is so good."

Akash laughed, "Don't you eat this often? You look like you've been starved."

"I have! I'm not... I mean, I don't eat it often because I live in the States. Besides, I can't cook well." I mumbled between bites.

He gave me an understanding nod. "I can't live without Indian food. How do you do it?"

"Well, I do order Indian once in a while. But I love trying new cuisines. Most days I just stick to salad though, because it's simple."

He frowned, considering what I had said for a moment, then shrugged.

"Wanna grab a drink from Mario's?" he asked.

"Sure."

After we finished our food, we strolled towards the bar that he seemed to be familiar with. The night air was crisp and the humidity had settled in, reducing to a bearable degree. Despite the many people that surrounded us, I felt alone. Even Akash's presence did not make up for the unfamiliarity of the city.

Mario's was an upscale restrobar with a modern vibe. The music pulsed through the speakers and thrummed my blood as we entered. The light was dim with the clatter of cutlery and the soft murmur of the customers filled the atmosphere.

The bar was located at the centre in a perfect circle. Waiters hurried by with trays filled with plates and bowls.

We headed over to the bar and I perched up on one of the high stools. Akash leaned against the slab and called for the bartender.

A decent looking man hurried over to us and looked at us expectantly. "Bourbon for me and..." Akash turned to look at me.

"Bloody Mary for me," I completed the order.