It was a nice day. The first visit was at the Buddhanath Stupa, a few minutes away from the hotel - the most famous sacred Lamaist place out of actual Tibet. Then we went to visit the temple of Pashupatinath, where unfortunately we weren't allowed to enter, the Sayambhunath Stupa and the house of Devi Kumri, in Durbar Square. A kid that presented himself as âlocal tour guideâ told us to put some rupees in the specific box, so that the living baby goddess would show up at the window of the first door to bless us. After a few minutes in fact the girl appeared: a small sweet and serious face girl surrounded by an elaborate and high red crown and wreath of colored flowers, the eyes enlarged and elongated by a heavy black outline, the lips red and all of the forehead completely covered in red and yellow, with a âthird eyeâ applied in the middle.
Riccardo took us around the market stalls and various alleyways, which looked somehow familiar from my last stay. We visited a series of places that I had never seen before; I wrote the names which I can't connect anymore to the photos we took: Guhesvari, Akasha Bhairava, Hanuman Dhoka, Kashtamandap, Ashoka Vinayak, Jaishi Deval, Balaju Budhanikantha, Changu Narayana, and Shekha Narayana. But I recognized a little temple dedicated to Shiva that I visited the first time and the temple of Durga, I learned it was called Dakshinakali now.
Nirva had got rid of the sad expression he'd had over the disappointment of not finding Govindananda, Max and Josè were super busy taking pictures and commenting amused by every smart and naughty move of the monkeys in every corner. One of them seemed in love with my boyfriend and didn't leave him alone! Clearly at one point my look must have been so wicked that when I screamed âI'm jealous!â the poor monkey ran away with its tail between its legs, after stealing two bananas from Maximilian's backpack. We burst out laughing seeing his face because the fruit was closed with the zipper and not one of us had noticed anything! It was hilarious.
âNow we have two less bananas and I'm very hungry little monkey... where will you take us to eat?â started Josè.
âIn a chic place!â I smiled maliciously. And took them to the Good Food.
Actually the âGood Foodâ was a clean place, I have always eaten well and it was quiet, but you couldn't define it as an elegant restaurant. I gladly noticed that in five years the management hadn't changed, the woman of the place clearly had a great memory and greeted me as if time had never passed. She'd lost weight and seemed in really good shape, happy and full of energy. Something good must have happened to her... who knows!
Even this time she tried to speak in our language: "Italiani simpatici!" and showed us two tables of four, adjacent, that with a small effort could be brought even closer. Riccardo and Giuliano said that, if we didn't mind, they had work to do and pulled out a file with a pack of papers with sketches and charts. They chose a table for two at the bottom of the room, ordered a local vegetarian menu and soon enough were profoundly soaked in a conversation in whispers.
We let them discuss freely and we focused on our food. Even the menu was quite the same as five years ago and I ordered wraps with cheese and soup of beans. Max and Josè pepperoni pasta and fried chicken - maybe tired of vegetarian food - Nirvanananda a kind of fried rice with vegetables and diced fried curd of milk, pan-fried vegetables and chickpeas and wraps made of wholegrain flour.
We ordered one bottle of red Kamasutra wine for the two meat-eaters and a jug of a salty Indian drink called 'Lassi' made of yogurt, very smooth and refreshing, for me and Nirva; it also had seeds of cumin and a little bit of lemon juice and mint leaves. Josè convinced me to taste a bit of wine, after that I already felt tipsy! Everyone made fun of me and I acted offended. I wanted to get my own back and, because I was tipsy, I started mocking Josè and Maximilian out loud about the fact that they didn't completely take a break from their murderous diet. It was a topic that Nirvanananda and I touched once in a while, without putting too much pressure on, because after all we wanted them to reach that solution in a natural way and not by choice. We didn't want to nag them nor to seem fanatics and I liked to think that in life giving a good example was usually the best way to assert ourselves and make people listen, not just hear.
Josè realized he'd made a mistake to insist with the wine and Max rolled his eyes upwards - afterwards I realized I'd not made a respectable spectacle of myself.
When the waitress came back with the second courses, Josè and Nirva made her bring a coffee for me. It worked rather well because, when the others finished their seconds and the mango dessert arrived, I had a clear head.
When we were paying the check, the owner of the diner remembered about a letter that she had put aside for me... I couldn't believe it. opened it with my heart pounding, imagining who could have left it. Inside there was a note with an Indian phone number and signed: Pedro.
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