2012 January, India at that time was a tolerant country that was witnessing every day a new scam and dead bodies of soldiers at the border. On a chilled day, we had boarded the train to the capital from a city 1000 kilometers away, little did we know that we won’t be left by this tolerant discussion that had started getting in the air slowly.
When we reached Nizamuddin railway station we six people took a van from the railway station with a promise to drop us at an affordable hotel. The cab driver took us to an expensive hotel which we politely denied as our budget did not allow it. He did not take it nicely and dropped all our luggage along with us outside the same hotel at 11 PM night.
Anyhow, we found a hotel and booked rooms at an affordable price, and went for dinner. Once we came tired and relaxed ourselves to different corners of the bed, all of us woke up past midnight. Sounds of couples coming at 3 am in the morning made us suspicious but our tiredness took over before deciding we must leave the hotel the next day.
The next day was my first-time travel in the metro for finding the PG. We succeeded in finding accommodation for the next six months and shifted by end of the day. Little did we know we won’t be spared from the heat that was coming into the capital which the entire country was going to witness.
The capital was taken aback by a rape case and torture of the couple in a moving bus and Anna Hazare and his supporters had declared strikes against the government on capital roads.
From here starts the political division among the six people in the group. One of the members of the group with different religious values was always silently supporting the existing government and the rest five guys were in favor of the ongoing criticism.
The next few years saw the rise of a Hindu nationalist being declared as the next Prime Minister candidate and this impacted the daily dinner discussion in our flat too. With five people supporting this move one friend supported the TRP news that if this candidate gets elected as the next PM, people from his religion will suffer.
The election campaign started followed by-election and with every phase, the discussions on our flat molded that way too. We had a bet that if this popular leader wins I will be giving a treat to all friends including this friend of ours who was losing. Anyways this candidate won and I gave a treat and this friend of ours left no stone to cook a good chicken and mutton dish that night.
The next few years saw different elections, roadshows, and IPL matches being the focal point of our dinner discussion. With celebrations and failures too being celebrated time was moving fast. After n number of arguments on the political values, the time came for the group to part ways.
Before leaving I remember that this friend of ours who always was having a different opinion suggested us to cook some sweet dish. He was the main cook and the dish to be made was Gajar ka halwa. The planning started at 2 PM on a weekend with Gajar, Milk, Dry fruits, and all ingredients getting shopped to accommodate six people. I don’t remember, but we gave him all the raw ingredients in the next few hours, little we knew our patience was going to be tested for one last time.
He started cooking at 5 or 6 in the evening. For the next few hours, he kept cooking, and with every passing hour, the patience of everyone else was giving up. With a sea of words being thrown at him, I felt he was enjoying our words as if he was winning all the arguments of years.
At 12 in the night, his Gajar ka Halwa was available for everyone. We tested it and by quality, it was far below the cost of materials we had put in. He got to listen with every spoon of Halwa we took in, but this was the last time he cooked for all of us and in the next few days we parted our ways.
We somehow stuck together in good and bad weather and even most people will say we are living in a quite intolerant phase, but we never forget to tell him Eid Mubarak and remember those last bites of Gajar ka Halwa.