A Day in Northern India

It was a hot afternoon but surprisingly blustery. The two groups reached the destination at different times. Scents of burning charcoal and firewood greeted us besides the trays of food and pots of curry lined up inside the restaurant.

We've exhausted our ideas on the venues for lunch and gotten bored with the usual haunts when Mimi came up with the idea of eating flatbread and chicken cooked out from a tandoor, hence our location on Friday.

Poring over the menu, we're really spoilt for choice and by the time orders were taken and food served, behold, each was essentially different but one thing's for sure, they all looked red and with a generous helping of raw onions and carrots.

Everyone chowed down intently with occasional giggles when the fellas, seated opposite of each other, eyed their counterparts and perhaps they way they eat. I was using my hands; yes, two hands. I just can't break up my food into small morsels with one hand without having to risk deforming them. Imagine, with the gravy around, it'd be like pouring water on a slice of bread and then mash them up. I looked in awe how Mimi, Syura and Firdaus separating flesh from bones (literally) skillfully.

The said fingers. Notice the flower motive in the background. I wonder why so many laughed at the batik.

Kak Mimi looked up, smiled, and said, "Ni-lah yang dipanggil expert".

"Yeah," I said. " Takpe, I guna kedua-dua belah tangan. Lagipun tangan kiri I tak digunakan."
She nodded knowingly with a smile. The three fingers on my right hand are lightly stained with a beautiful hues of orange and red as I'm typing although the scent of chicken tikka and garlic is gone now.

This is the umpteenth time we from the same lab had our meals together. Of course, we don't do that everyday. Sometimes, we'd get food and snacks for one another. Someone remarked to me about how warm this lab seems to be when she started work in here.

Syura, Yours truly, Kak Mimi

This lab is warm... I've never been close with Malay before, hugging them, having lunch or dinner together...

- One-zero, through an e-mail correspondence

Surely, a display of affection and love takes place at the most insignificant of places. In the market. At the bus station. In our case, the lab. And even in restrooms. I don't know what to call this thing but it is popularly known unity or perpaduan as it is called in the national language.

Like I said, what we see in the media isn't unity in all its essence. It's somewhat staged. Orchestrated. Scripted. Call it what you want but I still think it's superficial. There isn't a single criterion which will scream out "It's unity!" but rather a relationship between human beings established and held by love, concern, and respect for one another. Does the story above becomes meaningful only because it involves individuals having the names Firdaus or Syura? And emphatic no. It doesn't have to do with race or creed. Often, we're given the picture and idea of colours when it comes to preaching about unity. Why? To put it simply, everyone should be taught love and respect. And that's about all to it.

There's nothing in the English (or any other language) lexicon that could sum up the warmth, and the mirthful moments we have with others. That, like all kinds of relationships can only be tagged rather frivolously but only by experience could one comprehend it.