Walking down Mohammad Ali Road brought back so many memories, happy memories, of being there with friends, being there as a child, being there with your family, savouring those mouthwatering meals, whether it was Ramzan or not.
So you don’t mind that the streets are crowded, there’s traffic jams and vehicles all around who are going honk crazy, or that city is sweltering under the heat (and to think of it, summer hasn’t set in yet and it’s just pre-summer). You’re all excited and looking forward to having a wonderful evening in the company of your friends and enjoying some amazing food, and you get to to include your mum in it all (after all I am such a mumma’s boy). Moreover you get to relive so many memories, childhood memories.
What you are mindful is that you are late. Your friends have moved on to the starters and there’s no scope of getting a cab, so you have to make your mum walk for well over 1.6 kms (as indicated by Google maps) while dodging both people and vehicles of the two-wheel kind. You sure can’t make your mum walk fast and she doesn’t want to consume water (which is important considering the weather cause she doesn’t want to go or even use the washroom. So you are left with a slow progress, which you have to be ok with.
Did I mention you also have to be mindful of your belonging on those crowded streets. And you have the announcer reminding you do so .
So by the time you are near the intended destination, or trying to find the intended location, your friends are almost done with the starters, so you are left with booking a table for good 17 people for the main course, and patiently waiting for them to arrive, while you get your mum a seat cause your sure she’s tired from all the walking (making up for her missed evening walks).
As you wait for a table (it’s not easy to get a table for 17) you see others too waiting for a table, and many enjoying their meals (oblivious to the heat and merciless honking outside). What you do notice that the number of non-Muslims outnumber actual Muslims. Friends and coworkers and families, out to enjoy a wonderful meal, the delicacies that the Ramzan season brings, serving a further testament that when not divided by politics and politicians and political parties and their ideologies (for their own selfish motives), people from different religions, different cultures, different walks of life, different social status, all come together in celebration, weaving a beautiful tapestry of harmony. And this is not just here, but in most festivals that the city celebrates. Just goes to show that we are willing and very able to live in harmony with each other when we are left to ourselves, without the interference with those with evil ways.
Anyway, we get our table and place our orders, listening to the recommendations as we decide what we have to eat.
And trust me the food is delicious. All the Kormas, the Bottis, the Niharis, Biryani, Paya soup (got to mention this for my mumma) are so delicious and flavourful in every morsel, but there’s that one ingredient that that ties it all together and that is the company you share this meal with.
So whether it’s your family, your friends, your coworkers, your colleagues, your peers, your significant other, or even a total stranger, all make the meal even more meaningful and beautiful.
So over giggle and laughters and good natured ribbing, over conversations on the weirdest of topics, and taking photos ( how is that possible with me around and there being no pics), you are bonding with your fellow diners, the ones partaking these meals with you. And over these conversations, and wolfing down some delicious food, you are getting to know them better, their backgrounds, their cultures, their food, everything beyond running, even over peels of laughters and discussions of what race next, and clicking and posing for the millionth pic (how’s that even possible with so many runners and with yours truly).
In these moments, beyond the setting we usually see each other, you are cementing the bonds you’ve created, and making some beautiful and delightful memories that you’re going to cherish.
Now how is it even possible that you make a trip to Mohammad Ali Road and not treat yourself to some delightful dessert? In those moments your diet, your calorie count, what your trainer says, all goes out of the window. If you truly want to enjoy these delicious delicacies you need shut all these from your mind.
So once the plates are cleared and the bill is paid, you make your way down and into the street, one with the crowd and into the needless honking. Only this time you are not making your in the direction you would normally go to. But instead you’re going some place where you have never been to before.
Once again it’s a slow walk, cause you can’t hurry your mum. So you walk slowly, trying not to loose your friends, wondering when would this place actually come. And the place was surely worth the walk.
The sight of a beautifully round Malpua deep frying in that kadai, can send any diet conscious person and their dietitian and trainer into a tizzy (I told you, they need to be left back at home and away from the mind), but for people like me, it’s a sight, an amazement, a delight, one that gets you all salivating. It’s not an indulgence, it’s not cheating, it’s called eating without guilt, enjoying the cuisine, giving your senses and your taste buds a feast, a treat, one they deserve, and you deserve.
You’ve got to appreciate these beautiful delicacies cause they are what’s binding us together.
So you greedily wolf down phirnis, a biscuit with delicious mawa in the centre and the unmissable and piping hot Malpua with delicious rabri. You truly are in food in heaven. And when you had your fill of these delicacies, you wash it down with some nice cool falsa soda, the perfect coolant for a warm summer evening(not sure if it is paired with all that you have wolfed down, but that doesn’t matter, as long as it doesn’t upset your system), and considering the heat, and the awesomeness of the drink, one glass just won’t do.
And with that last glass of falsa, it’s time to head home, as it’s school night, make that a work night. You don’t quite look forward to walk back to the station. Your full but content belly doesn’t quite do you any favour. Also you don’t want to make your mum walk through the crowd again. So you book cab, bid farewell to your running buddies, and patiently wait for your ride to arrive, as it makes it way through those crowded street.
And with its arrival, it marks an end to a wonderful gastronomical evening of amazing food, awesome company, and amazingly crazy conversations, leaving all your senses completely satisfied, and your mum too had a good time, what else could you ask for.
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