Every day for the past few months I had been eating from my
cafeteria, now I wanted a change. I wanted to feel the crisp masala dosa
breaking under my fingers, smell the steam rising from freshly cooked rice and
be surprised by the ever changing blend of chaat. So I signed out and decided
to walk a considerable distance each day to have different food, at least for a
few weeks. The first few days I was accompanied by one of my friends. We would
go there each day in the sleepy mornings, bustling lunch hours and talk filled
nights. It wasn't much different. I liked the food, but each day we would talk
about something that happened in the class, our assignments etc... We talked
about this because we were studying in the same class with same courses, other
than this we were not able to find anything to talk about. However after a few
days for some reason I couldn't quite get he went back to the mess and I was
left alone.
I remember the first morning I went alone to have the breakfast. It
was an overcast day; it hadn't rained for a long time. After a few minutes I
was surrounded by the chilly morning air and bits of sunshine peeking through.
The long road stretched ahead of me with grandfather trees towering over me on
both sides, stretching towards the sky and weaving a canopy shining hundred
shades of green in the soft light. On one side of me was a blue gulmohar
standing in its leafless majestic glory, splashing color like the setting sun.
Opposite stood an old bougainvillea with its pink leaves etched in the dark
background, flowing down to leaf covered brown autumn soil. On turning around a
corner I was met with a stretch of canopied road so long that its end was hazy,
every morning while coming back my heart never takes the turn; it continues
along the road wrapped in the chilly morning. After a while your nose discovers
that winds smells of something very unusual but nevertheless welcoming; hot
idlis, dosas and samabar. And I had thought that I couldn't love my breakfast more:
D
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