The year 1979 80 I spent at Government National College Sirsa to pass BCom Part I. I used to come and go by bus all year round. In the name of lunch, I used to take two parathas from home. He used to take half a plate of dry vegetables, sometimes bhartha, sometimes okra or curd from the dhaba next to the college. Thus, with 75 paise, I could have lived well. Never took dal fry because it cost half a rupee. Most of the time, I used to have carrot or mango pickle and sometimes green chilli. Then Upinder Kashyap, son of Deputy Director Veterinary, became my friend. We used to have lunch together. Even though he was a local, he did not bring lunch. Because his mom used to force him to come home and eat hot bread. But he was happy to have rough sex with me. Seeing him, I started carrying three parathas. And then four. When my mother came to know that my friend also eats with me, she would sometimes make buns with jaggery, sometimes greens or dry vegetables. This process continued for a long time.
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Towards the end of March, when the session was about to end, one day he invited me to a luncheon. On the dining table there was a dry vegetable along with the potato pea vegetable. There was raita made of curd in small rolls. Because only onion and tomato were chopped in curd. Which was new to me. We used to boil potatoes or make raita of thick patties. On a plate, half an onion and half a tomato were cut, which the rich people called salad. There was no satisfaction even after eating many paper-thin flakes. Everything was new to me.
"Sorry, Ramesh, it didn't come out of the conversation you were having. I didn't enjoy it." He said and his eye was wet. I also wanted to say the same but as a Sistachar I could not say it. There is a difference between rural and urban bread
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