Page 57 of Made in Mumbai

“So they sell vada pav and dosa now?”

“Unfortunately, no. But they do have very good organic food.”

“Yeah, you need it,” she snorted. “Inorganic mule.”

“What did you call me?”

“Hello, this is Farmer’s Cafe, can I take your order?”

“Hi, yes. I want one Baked Sweet Potato Wedges, one Cuban Burger and,” he glanced at her. Maya kept her mouth shut tight, although she was tempted to order their Paneer Tikka-like gravy with rice. It came with those pink vinegar onions and she was craving a whole quintal of those. But she had her pride.

“And,” Gautam went on, “One Indian Cottage Cheese Curry on Rice and a Salted Caramel Chee…”

“I don’t like salted caramel nowadays,” she whispered to him.

“Sorry, can you make that Hazelnut Chocolate Cheesecake?” He corrected instantly, putting the car in drive as the signal turned green.

“And extra vinegar onions,” she whispered.

“I also need extra vinegar onions with the curry and rice. I am collecting it in ten minutes. Please pack it with cutlery and napkins for two.”

The call disconnected.

“Why are we collecting the food, and how did you know I was craving their paneer tikka and rice?”

“You were in the mood for something spicy. This is the closest they have.”

“Why are we not eating there?”

“It would be crowded at this time. The waiting would be long. I thought we will take it and eat it by the sea. Do you want to dine there? I can cancel the pick-up.”

“No, I am happy picnicking!”

“Not a picnic.”

“Such a picnic.”

“Not a picnic.”

“Such a picnic!”

“Not a pic… fine. Picnic.” He shook his head, making her smirk.

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They sat on the Carter Road promenade ledge, feet dangling over the sea. This was the exact spot they had sat on that night fifteen years ago. The tide was high today too, as it was then, the sea kissing the wall beneath their feet. And even as she ate with both hands, Gautam ate his burger singlehandedly, keeping one arm curved behind her. Not touching, Maya eyed sneakily, but ready to hold her in case she lost balance.

She finished her last delicious bite of the luscious paneer gravy on rice and set the styrofoam box down.

“Hmm…” he passed her the box of cheesecake, done with his food.

“Some time later.”

She eyed him neatly fold the paper wrapper of his burger, then wipe his fingers and stuff everything back in the bag. Maya chuckled.

“What?”

“I can’t believe this is the same guy who drank chutney out of his bowl.”

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