A very interesting conversation at a restaurant by the name of ‘Kashmir’ in Paris last week with its Pakistani
Manager.
Me: Hi. I am a North Indian. I broadly know about Kashmiri
cuisine like red beans etc. Can you please explain what its main specialties
are?
Manager: Madam, Kashmir is a very beautiful valley in Pakistan.
Me: Pardon me… Pl dont tell me where Kashmir is. I asked about
the food.
Manager: About food, ammm.... (looking at the back) the waiter will explain you. Oye Sun!….(pointing at the guy) Come
here and explain Madam about Kashmiri food.
Boy (carrying the fake hospitality industry smile): Madam, the best Keema you’ll ever find will be
Kashmiri.
Me: I am a vegetarian.
Boy: Sorry. Then Kashmiri is not for you.
Me (whispering): I presume you meant just the food.
Boy: Sorry?
Me: Can you please bring the vegetarian thali....
P.S. Just like Indians will remain Indians, Pakistanis will remain Pakistanis too.
Oh, London is a man's town, there's power in the air;
ReplyDeleteAnd Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair;
And it's sweet to dream in Venice, and it's great to study Rome;
But when it comes to living, there is no place like home.
~Henry van Dyke
Sitting there, alone in a foreign country, far from my job and everyone I know, a feeling came over me. It was like remembering something I’d never known before or had always been waiting for, but I didn’t know what. Maybe it was something I’d forgotten or something I’ve been missing all my life. All I can say is that I felt, at the same time, joy and sadness. But not too much sadness, because I felt alive. Yes, alive. That was the moment I fell in love with Paris. And I felt Paris fall in love with me. ~ Paris Je T’Aime