Full circles

When we met for the first time, my order of a mousse was met with a ?oh, I didn?t know you are such a high calorie person. I?m very calorie conscious you know. I?ll have tea -without milk or sugar?. I had quickly changed my order to a cup of cold coffee.

A year, after that, we didn?t meet, but talked frequently on the phone. She used to routinely call me ?fatso? and I used to retaliate by calling her anorexic. She would take jibes at my habit of a large late night glass of bournvita. That she ate not much but shoots and leaves left some room for retaliation.

Then we met for the second time.

We met again recently ? in a valiant attempt to try pick up the pieces. She looked as if four of her could fit easily into one pair of my jeans. The place we chose was not particularly known for its food, but the peace and serenity more than made up for that.

The set dosas soon arrived, complete with a small plate with a dollop of butter. I just looked at her eyes, and quietly kept the plate of butter aside, and dived straight into attacking the dosa. She picked up the butter in her little plate carefully applied it on her dosa. Another look into my eyes, and she picked up the butter from my plate too.

That, I thought, was a classic case of life coming round a full circle. And that it merits a mention in my blog.

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