Chickened Out

The other day, it was well past lunch hour when I got to an eatery. Apart from the fact that I hadn’t eaten momos in months, it was one of the first times I was going out to eat since the lockdown. Lord knows how I was starving for hours before I got a table inside the eatery in the middle of a work day. With roughly 20 minutes on hand, I knew the next few moments would have to be spent focusing just on my platter.

 There is something about the sauce that comes with pan-fried momos that I can never get enough of. With four momos down and six more to go, I chomped on the first portion in fewer than four minutes, only focusing on calming the raging volcano in my stomach. It was only after my stomach stopped growling did I acknowledge the taste of what I was eating.

 “I hope you have served me veg momos,” I casually asked the waiter, being assured about my order. The sweat droplets on my forehead quickly trickled down my cheeks, and under my t-shirt, when the waiter, in an equally casual tone, replied saying he had served me non-veg. The food I had just devoured was nothing but chicken momos. “What in the world…!”

I grabbed a tissue, wiped my forehead and mouth, and got up. The waiter looked perplexed not and asked if I wanted the remaining portion of food on my table packed. It wasn't until I spelled out that I had eaten non-veg for the first time in my 27 years of existence, after he took got the order wrong, that he claimed it was me who had asked for chicken momos.

In my head: How could he… gosh? What am I supposed to do now? Does he know how badly he has messed up? Eew… (Eyes closed) Was this my fault? What was the need to eat outside during this pandemic? Why I did not confirm the order before eating? No wonder the inside bit looked weird. It’s okay, stop making this such a big deal. It was an accident. But…

I took a few deep breaths and got myself to think that what had happened couldn't be changed. I reminded the waiter of the blunder her had made, and that what had happened with me was enough for any staunch vegetarian like myself to get offended. Standing at the billing counter, I asked the same waiter to pack a portion of vegetarian momos, in place of the portion I had left uneaten.

 As I was walking away with the packed momos, my eyes fell on the label that sealed the takeaway box, which bore a red mark. I quickly turned around and pointed to the “non-veg” indication, in front of the waiter. Before I could say anything, the man was ready with the same explanation he had previously offered. This time I simply asked him to pack me veg momos, without discussing the ifs and buts.

While I was headed back to my work, I couldn't help but laugh at the sequence of events. I was unsure if it was the waiter who was to blame for the double whammy, or the lack of my being proactive both the times, which led to the disaster. In any case, my heart and apologies go out to the chicken, and every other animal, that was and is made to bear the brunt of human actions in some way or the other.