I have a crazy craving for momo’s. Not like I have to eat them everyday, but when I want to eat, I have to…no matter whatever happens. Last year when I joined college, my favorite eating place was momo uncle’s stall and ever since then that’s the one place I don’t miss going to. The first time I went to eat momo, V was there with me. Ever since then we are regular customers of momo uncle.
V is my partner in crime, my default best friend in college. We used to sit together in class, roam around together in college, hang out together, and basically spend all our time together. Especially when it came to food, we went to all eating joints together; unfortunately only I used to end up having an upset stomach whereas V used to gobble up more and more food.
Never ever did I went and ate momo’s without V. Not that I love her so much, but because she would curse me latter for eating alone (just kidding, I love you V). Last week also we went together to eat momo. We were done with classes at 1:00 p.m. As always we were clueless about how to spend our time. Suddenly my stomach started desiring momo’s and my nose could smell momo’s even though I was sitting in the library, and momo images kept appearing in my head. I stood up, and held V’s hand. She looked at me in surprise and asked, “What happened?” I told her I got my regular momoache.
V understands my momoache perfectly well, she has witnessed this numerous times before and she knew how it was to be cured .We walked fast, to momo uncle’s stall. Usually he closes his stall around 2:30 p.m. We reached there at 2:10 p.m., but he was nowhere to be seen. You know it’s very frustrating when you badly want something and you don’t get it. My momoache was increasing, my stomach rumbled in frustration.
V told me not to worry; she knew another momo stall in the lane next to our college. We rushed there, before my momoache would become severe. Too my sheer bad luck, that momo stall was also closed.
Finally we decided to try our luck for the last time. We went to another lane, where one young boy occasionally put his momo stall. I looked up in the sky, “please god, I can’t tolerate this, my momoache is becoming unbearable.” V looked at me, and put a hand on my shoulder, “It’s okay, you can do this…just wait for a couple of more minutes.”
That day was a lucky day, that young boy had put up his stall. We told him to give one plate chicken momo immediately. I ate almost all of them…I always do. Momo is one thing I can eat nonstop and it’s the only thing V lets me eat more. Then I asked V if she wanted another plate, she said yes. Usually the momo stalls have atleast different types of sauce; I am the one who pours the sauce in the plate always.
My hands were already filled with momo’s and we needed more sauce to finish those momo’s. I asked V to put sauce in the plate. She took the bottle which had our favourite red chilli sauce, turned the bottle and pressed it. No sauce came out of it. She shook the bottle, tilted it and then pressed the bottle again, same as last time nothing happened. She got angry and pressed the bottle very hard, she forgot to turn the bottle in anger; the opening of the bottle was faced towards her…like a gush of water the red sauce came out, and all of it fell on her dress. She screamed and I started laughing. The momo stall guy got more tensed than us. He kept giving us tissues after tissues, everyone was looking at us. Both of us tried wiping the sauce off her dress, but the adamant sauce, didn’t want to leave her dress. I was still laughing and looking at me V started laughing too.
We both went from there laughing and laughing; people looked at us as if we were some new species. I vowed never to give V the sauce bottle again. I am very sure, whenever my momoache starts next time, V will think twice before accompanying me.