Rags to Riches to Rags

My friend Julia's grandparents, a rather adventurous duo known as Bill and Mimi, arrived a few days ago in Hyderabad. True to the nature of poor college students, a group of us used the opportunity to invite ourselves out to dinner with them. We dined at a fine restaurant called Indi Joe's where wine is abundant and the menu includes everything except Indian food. Eight of the nine-person party decided to satisfy their cravings for Western food by ordering pizza or pasta, but the "tex-mex" section of the menu was the page that caught my eye. "Chimichanga" seemed too risky of an order for my friends, but I really couldn't resist the idea. What arrived was more "Mexican-ish" than anything... Really, I can only describe it as what Mexican food would be if cooked by Indian chefs. It did taste good though.

After dinner we wanted to introduce Bill and Mimi to the gastronomic delight of a dessert known as gulab jamun. This common Indian dessert is essentially a donut-hole soaked in sugary rose-water. My friends describe it as "the last bite of pancake." Based on the way we crave it, it might also have an addictive substance in the ingredients. We hoped we might be able to find it in the restaurant at the grandparents' hotel, the Taj Krishna. The hotel is one of the fanciest I've ever stepped foot in. If anyone wants to come visit me and stay there I'd really, REALLY be happy. Consider it.

We entered the hotel, delirious from the luxury of it all and sat in the lobby cafe area. A waiter arrived to take our order and we asked for delicious gulab only to find out that they don't serve it in the hotel. We were distressed, but apparently we didn't realize how things work in luxury hotels. Soon we found out how the other half lives. The waiter simply said "I'll take care of it," disappeared for a while then arrived back with the best gulab jamun ever.

Gleefully, we left the hotel and five of us piled into a single rickshaw back to campus. This cozy seating arrangement quickly ended any of the fantasies of finery that the Taj Krishna may have sparked in us. As we rode along chatting and laughing, suddenly my friend Abby screamed. We all spun around to see what she was pointing at and saw a motorcycle with three guys on it flying over the horizon with her purse flailing behind them. Somehow, in the heavy traffic they had spotted us, zipped past, reached over and pulled her purse right out of her hands. The rickshaw tried to chase after the motorcycle, but rickshaws with five passengers evidently don't accelerate very quickly. It was a sobering moment since there was nothing we could have done to predict or prevent it and there was nothing we could really do afterwards. Abby called her mother to cancel her credit cards right away and luckily didn't have anything irreplaceable in the purse, but of course everything had sentimental value. We're all just being a little more conscious of what we carry with us when we go out now.

Now that I've shared this story I'm sure my parents will have many sleepless nights. Don't worry. Here is a video of what the average, theft-free rickshaw ride is like. CLICK HERE Perfectly safe, right?