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.

Giving us a nod, he left us. "I love this place," Akash said, grinning.

"It is pretty great." I agreed with him, still scanning my surroundings.

"Yeah, I've been coming here for a long time. I was born in Kolkata and I've lived my entire life here, so I know a lot about this city," he smiled.

"Same, but I don't know much to be honest," I admitted.

"Why not?" he asked.

I shook my head and asked him about his unplanned trip.

"It's actually a group of us. I know two of them, the other five are friends of friends. We're going to start off with Mysore and Ooty. From there we've planned on going to Goa. After that... we haven't really decided. We're inclining towards Himachal though."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you plan on backpacking the entire year?"

"Wish I could. But duty calls. We aren't going to stay in any place for long. All of us have kinda flexible jobs. But I'm taking a longer vacation than them. They'll probably come back after Goa. Or not. But I've decided to explore more," he explained.

I opened my mouth to reply but the bartender approached us and handed us our drinks.

"This actually sounds great," I said.

"It is. You should come."

I laughed. But he kept a straight face. "Wait, you're serious?"

He nodded, sipping his glass of bourbon.

"I barely know you," I replied.

"I don't know most of them either. The trip is actually for a music festival in Goa and it's being managed by one of my friends. So we don't actually know everyone."

I hummed in reply.

We spent the next hour talking and drinking and I'd never had this much fun in a long time. I had withdrawn from everyone weeks ago when Diane told me that they had dropped my campaign. Even Jack. I knew that I could confide in him. He was easily one of my best friends, but I just wanted to live with my thoughts for a while. I had barely been able to walk out of my apartment after that which lead to my hasty departure.

We head out of Mario's and I waved goodbye to the bartender. My steps were slow and my head felt slightly fuzzy, but Akash seemed normal.

"So where are you at?" he asked.

I pointed at the building towering over the tall trees, a short distance away from the restrobar. "Sweet," he said. "You don't have any family here?"

My reply was slow as I kicked a pebble out of my way. "I do."

Whatever he had heard in my tone must have suggested that the topic wasn't open for discussion because he was silent till we reached the gates of the hotel.

"I had a great time tonight. I usually keep to myself, but today was fun," he said, facing me.

I smiled.

We stood face-to-face before he finally sighed, "I know that you've got free time. You told me so yourself and you don't seem to live with family at the moment. Which is why I'm giving you this." He pulled out a card and took my hand. Pressing it to my palm, he met my gaze again. "I really hope you come. We're leaving in a week."

I said nothing as he stared at me before finally letting go of my hand and stepping back.

I wished him goodnight and slipped into the hotel premises. I held onto the card till I got to my room and only looked at it once I'd shut the door behind me.

It was a travel agency card, but it seemed different because it focused only on music festivals. There was a number at the bottom. I flipped the card over and there it was—a hasty scrawl atop the glossy white paper. The edges of the letters were smudged, but I could read the words—

'Call me'

And below that was his number. I looked up and back at the card again before tossing it in the bin and falling onto the large bed.

~~~
Glossary:

1. Paratha- a flat thick piece of Indian bread, usually made with wheat flour but without yeast. It is often stuffed with vegetables like boiled potatoes, radish or cauliflower, etc. and is fried on a griddle
There are many varieties of parathas. In fact they also vary depending on which region of India it's originated from.

2. Goni manchurian- Gobi (cauliflower) Manchurian is the result of the adaptation of Chinese cooking and seasoning techniques to suit Indian tastes. It is believed to have been originally developed by a small Chinese community which lived in Kolkata. In its two-stage preparation, the first stage requires preparing a spiced corn flour batter, dipping cauliflower florets in it and deep frying them. In the second stage, the deep fried florets are sautéed with chopped onion, capsicum, garlic, etc., in soy and chili sauce.
There are two different variants of gobi Manchurian, dry and with gravy.