The Telltale Natives (Part II - The Lunch) Previously: Part - I Hour four: Dhanya descended from her dormitory staircase clutching a handbag. Varun eyed her with a smirk [ek chota handbag set back thirty minutes. Do chakram girls have any sense of time? Oo no, that gloss on her lips, I see. And that very faint eye liner. Would the food look pretty with her unnecessary makeup. But she looks cute. Shut up , Varun, she is a cuteless callous-coated cattle rancher!] “Sorry, have I kept you waiting? ” [dekho! woh nazar! Mugambo's stare! At least Mugambo from Mr India kabhi kabhi khush hua kartha tha but this chap. Arey I returned in five may be ten may be fifteen minutes. Uske liya itna bhayankar expression. Foul-faced fishery!] With contrived pleasantries, they hurry into the waiting cab. Hour five: “Fancy anything from menu? ” He lowered his menu card and gazed at her. “Nothing very interesting in Brindavanam” [kachori, aloo chaat, pav bhaji ..mooh mein paani aa raha hai. But how do I order the tantalizing ethnic food. He might think of me as a hick from Handipur. But that pav bhaji —] “How about you, Varun?” “I like Cheese Nachos and Coke to go with it but then ... ” “but then ... ”, she drawled with painful eyes. “But then ....the kachori listings are ... ” “ ....are .... ” “well ...they ...are ... ” “ ...are ... ” [aghe bolo you dunk-headed doodle from dandiapur] “They are funny .” He flung the menu. “Why don't we have some fun then, ” she throws her head askance, “the names are definitely funny like this chitchor kachori. We must try it. ” Varun crouches his shoulders against the table and penetrates into her eyes. [tu kya cheez hai. What are you? Who are you really? Are you what I think you are or you are what I would like to think you are. Ek hi tareeka hai.] He playfully leaned back. “Let's order the chitchor kachori and rangeela kachori with tiranga bhaji and aloo bajrangi.” She lit up happy. “And that teesri manzil pav with imli dimli pani puri also.” Hour six: Varun leaned against the jamb of her door in the dormitory. “Did you enjoy the food? ” “Splendid! Delicious! Ekdam Jhakaas!” “Jhakaas?” “Sorry, as in —” . He interrupted her, “I know what that means. If you chakram are what I think jhakaas you are, and you are also the callous-coated cantankerous cattle rancher, then what am I? Truth. Speak up. What am I.” He forced his towering way into her puzzled gaze. “You are ... ” “Yes, I am ? ” “... are ... ” “... would you please finish that for me you halting habibi from hastinapur.” “You are foul-faced fishery. ” She clasped her arms on her tightened waist. “Yes I am ... ” He flicked his gaze at her sparkled eyes. “Hold there, right there. I have something for you.” He darted away and returned soon huffing with a chunky confection in a bottle . “Homemade mango and garlic achar, just an extra bottle.” She eagerly nabbed the bottle from him. “I was craving for Amla pickle. Mango hi sahi.” As he turned around to leave, she inquired, “Arey fishery, lunch tomorrow, er, wahi Brindhavanam.” He grinned. “Aaj toh we skipped lagaan bhaji and andaz sabzi. Tomorow, phir se chalthe hai.” Her hearty laughter echoed in the doorway. The smitten Varun on his way down the stairs brushed against a raffish lad. "Bro, watch where you are going in the Academy especially in girls dormitory." Varun turned around and apologized. "Sorry, you are —" "Siddhant."