I climb the last flight of stairs, tired with the bike ride from my office. The traffic takes a toll on you. I find the door unlocked, my room mate seems to be in. Which is usually rare. He likes to spend his time in the campus once he gets back from his government job. In fact, he seems to spend more time in campus than his job actually!
I rap the door twice, our bell is never switched on, my roomie answers the door looking surprised. “Your Early”, are his first words, which is true. Saying this he goes back to the kitchen. I follow him there, drawn by the aroma of dinner, almost ready. He has cooked his favorite dish today, Aloo Bhat ( a type of spiced steam rice with potatoes and veggies) and Pithla (a gravy like dish made with gram flour). I will miss this dish, the last supper…
Bhushan Chambewar, painter, industrial planner turned urban planner, multiplex dozing, hard-core Nagpurian who doesn’t like oranges, almost a pure vegetarian, sugar dunking-pickle gobbling monster with a paunch-phobia whom I have known for the past 4 years is leaving and I don’t believe it.
He has made me call this old dilapidated flat a home for the past 2 years, cooking up the most amazing food and at the same time cursing me when I most needed it. He has taught me to cook Nagpuri style and made me listen to the latest bollywood hits which I really didn’t like to listen.
He is the ‘mom’ of the house which he absolutely hates being called. Now this kid is all left alone in the land of fafdas and khaman. But this post is not about me. It’s about this great friend who has seen me through the crucial years of my very first job, my hobbies, my dreams. I wish him good luck in all his future endeavors his new job and a normal life back in his home town. Adieu dear friend and god bless!
