When Delhi Met Kashmir Over Lunch

Two Kashmiri friends on a birthday outing cross paths with a group of women travellers, discovering how small talk can bloom into big reflections.

- Aisha Hasnain

ihe rain had settled over the city that morning, the kind that makes you want to stay indoors and watch the day go by. It was my friend's birthday, and she kept wavering over my invitation to lunch at her favourite new place. I thought she might not come at all.

Then, just as the clouds thickened, she arrived at my door. She borrowed one of my dresses, I called for a cab, and off we went: two friends.

This small restaurant is barely two months old, located at a stunningly beautiful place. I assume the owners must have needed a special permission from the government to get this restaurant built at that particular location. Construction at such a site where nature offers itself with grace will simply be a felony. But one small place does not hurt, which feels like needed for a fresh breath after a tiring weekend.

As I got down the cab, I could see a woman with a pixie haircut, most probably in her 40s, looking at me through the big window pane from inside the restaurant. My friend and I entered and | let her decide the table for us. We sat ona table right in front of the big couch on the ground floor where a group of four non-Kashmiri friends along with an elderly woman were having a good time.

This particular woman in her 40s was also a part of the same group. As I was making myself comfortable in my chair, | could feel her still looking behind her chair at me, observing something. I looked up, met her gaze, smiled and whispered a hello. She returned the greeting as warmly.

Suddenly my friend called me, “Hey, she’s asking about your handbag.” | looked in front of myself where my friend was hinting towards. Another lady from the same group, almost in her 50s, was pointing towards my friend, “The shirt! It is a very beautiful shirt. Where did you get it from? I like it!” My friend pointed towards me, gesturing that it belonged to me.