Out on a date at a fine restaurant, with a fine lady, we ordered momos for starters. Now if you are wondering what a momo is, well it’s a Tibetan/Nepali delicacy made out of minced meat (pork or chicken), wrapped individually as a dumpling and steamed, served with a special sauce/chutney and soup. (If you are still interested in finding out more about the momo, you can Google it out). And just in case you are wondering whom was I out on a date with and when and where and etc etc.. then ..Nah, I am NOT telling you anything more on that, so just get over it and continue reading.

So after a while the waiter arrives with a plate of hot, steaming, yummy looking momos and what do I notice ‘Oh Oh.. there are 7 momos on the plate’. Now how much I hate being in such an ‘odd’ situation. I mean, how could those restaurant guys do this to us? 2 people and 7 momos?? Do they not understand that 7 is a number that is not divisible by 2? Could they just not make it 8 momos? Or maybe even 6 (but nah.. considering what they were charging for a plate of momos, I think I would rather go with 8 than 6). Anyways without the slightest display of anxiety or panic, we continued our conversation, savoring our way though the momos - one momo at a time. But as anticipated, I soon faced the situation I had dreaded. We were down to that Last Momo on the plate.

It’s a tough situation I tell you. On one hand you really want that momo, but then you don’t want to make it look obvious either. You have an image to protect (I think). In such a situation, carrying on with the conversation and acting as if you are paying attention to what the lady is saying and enjoying it too, is a real challenge. Because the only thought that’s hammering you in the head is ‘Who’s gonna eat that last momo?’. But I think I was still doing a fine job at acting normal and enjoying the conversation, and I doubt if my date had realized that I had lost her to that last momo a while ago. And that’s when she uttered those golden words. She said “Go ahead, finish that momo”.

It was a moment of ecstasy. It was bliss. Without the slightest hesitation whatsoever, I dug the fork (which I was all the while still holding in my hand) into the momo, dipped the momo in the sauce and gulped it down. I thought I had done this as gracefully as I could, without revealing the euphoria I was experiencing as the momo found its way into my stomach, caressing my soul on its way down; but a look at her face, didn’t take me long to realize that I was totally wrong. I don’t know what exactly gave me away. Maybe it was the haste with which I gulped down the momo, or maybe it was the look and love in my eyes (for the momo of course), or maybe it was the broad grin on my face; but whatever it was, it was enough for me to understand that along with the momo I had gulped down on the little ounces of chivalry that I thought I was carrying along all this while. Well no issues. Chivalry and I were never on good terms anyways. So no regrets on losing it :-)

But I am not the type who would give up that easily. I tried to justify my actions by arguing that it was she who had offered me that last momo. I even asked her “Had I offered you that momo, would you have eaten it?“, to which she replied “Of course I wouldn’t”. “So fine, then what’s the complaint about?” was my reaction. But apparently things were not as fine and simple as they should have been. I wanted that momo and she didn’t want it; she wanted me to display a little more chivalry and I guess I didn’t have it.

Needless to say, that when the bill arrived, and she offered to pay, I obliged to her request and let her do the honor. Anyways I had lost grace. Let me not lose my money too - is what I thought :-). Yup, I know I can be smart at times :-)

PS: Just for the record, I am planning to file a PIL (Public Interest Litigation) against all restaurants serving odd number of starters to a party of two. Anybody willing to join me in this noble cause?