The Roti Shop
I love traveling and meeting new people, be it backpacking, adventurous treks or leisure tours. Traveling has taught me a lot: to be independent, acceptance of different cultures, and survival of course!
Recently, I met an American friend of mine, who was on a tour of India. We explored a few places in Delhi and then had a lavish dinner at an authentic Punjabi restaurant. She was sharing her travel stories of India, and I was not at all surprised to find Chandni Chowk on top of the list. She said, “I sometimes feel sad that I am here traveling as a tourist, and some people barely have food to eat”. That sentence hit me. We finished our meal and as a responsible friend, I booked a cab for her and said goodbye. Then, I was engrossed in my phone comparing cab fares when a little girl grabbed my attention. She had a height up to my waist, with hair tied in a messy thin braid, wearing a rugged kurta and a faded pajama, holding a bunch of bright balloons in her hand. With her big, round and black twinkling eyes, she requested me to buy some balloons so that she can get some food. It was around 11 at night and I had absolutely no reason to buy something fancy. I looked at her and she looked exactly like the girl from Leila, a dystopian genre on NetFlix. For those who have not seen the series, here is a glimpse.
With lots of things going in my mind, I couldn’t decide what to do. Of course, I couldn’t ignore her. And I didn’t want to give her money as the chance of her using that money for food was less. So I asked her if she knows any place nearby where I could buy her something to eat. She said, “yes, there is a roti shop nearby”. I did not understand what she exactly meant by the roti shop, but I assumed it to be a small mess or a thela. I agreed and we walked a few meters. She pointed towards a brightly lit shop from where an aroma of fresh oregano was prevailing. That was a Domino’s Pizza outlet, with a picture of pizza or ‘a roti’ on it. I smiled and looked at her innocent face. I decided to buy her a roti and took her to the shop. I ordered the most basic pizza(huh! You can call me a miser, or maybe a frugal :p) and we both sat across a table. For the people who don’t know me, I am terrible at starting a conversation. After a few minutes of awkward silence, when maximum people were staring and judging us, I asked where she stays. She said, “below the flyover”. I felt my heart heavy. Pretending to be normal, I continued the conversation and she always replied with a smile. After 10 minutes of unidirectional talk, the Domino’s guy called my name. I collected the roti and handed it to her. She delightfully took it and ran outside. I took my phone, and without comparing the prices, booked a cab. When the cab almost arrived, I went out of the shop. A few meters away, I saw few kids and that girl, smiling and running, with a roti slice in their hand. I got into my cab and lowered the window to have a final look at that little girl. She gave me a beautiful wide smile. I whispered, “you’re welcome ☺”.
