Perfect strangers

Today morning when I woke up, I realized that I needed to get all the redundant stuff removed from my wallet. Some old phone numbers of the people whom I don't remember anymore, random visiting cards,bills dated ages ago etc. I have always had the habit of accumulating a lot of junk which I might never need. As my wallet was almost 2 inches thick by now, it was high time that I got started with the cleansing act. I found a small yellow paper with 1 or 2 names and email addresses written on it. Also, on the back side there was a name 'Kaciane' and her phone number written in blue ink. That takes me a few months back.

Yes, to the good old days in Stuttgart. I do not remember missing anything in my life as much as I miss Germany. It was one more of those world cup days in the month of June. If I am not mistaken, it was sometime near the end of June. I came from the office at about 5 p.m. and was lying on my bed when I suddenly recalled that there was an England game that day. With a hope to see Beckham bend those special ones, I caught the train to Hauptbahnhoff or the main station. I could afford this liberty of traveling at my will thanks to the free train pass I had for the month of June. I got down at Stadtmitte and went to the Fan Fest. As always, the space was quite lively with diverse groups from all over the world wearing their flags, showing their national spirits. It was a sight to witness. There were more than 10,000 people at the Stadtmitte. The British fans or hooligans, as they are famously called, were making their presence felt. One could feel some nice little battles between these European giants. It was there that I learned that the Brits aren't great fans of the Germans or the French but surprisingly they get along quite well with the Dutch. The Germans don't like the Brits and hate the Dutch to the core.I doubt if any country in this world really enjoys the company of the French people. Then, I went inside the Fan Fest area where there was a huge screen placed in front and more than 5000 people either sitting or standing and relaxing themselves, drinking beer, eating sausages and many other food items. A 5 euro beer was a bit too expensive for a lowly paid intern that I was and I decided to go in the front and enjoy the game.

As the game progressed, I found myself standing amongst a few enthusiastic English fans wearing their T-Shirts, flags painted on their cheeks and shouting for Wayne Rooney. There was a slightly bald guy in his 40s or late 30s probably standing just next to me and accompanied by his wife/partner/girlfriend and their 2 children, wearing the England jersey. As barely anything was happening in the game, people indulged in some light talks as it was just a league game. So, this lady (his wife/ girlfriend) started a conversation with me...maybe because she wasn't of British origin and therefore wasn't exactly as white as the others. No, but that sure wasn't the case with the Germans. Then she asked me where I was from and what I was doing there and the talks began.

She wasn't a very beautiful woman or anything. She was wearing a nice red spaghetti and was at best fare but she was quite talkative. Her name was Kaciane. At first, I was quite glad to speak proper English, where I didn't need to stop after every sentence as I had been used to while in Germany. She told me that she was from Cyprus and then had moved to U.K. She was from London but lived in Stuttgart for 20 years or so. She was working as an English tutor for the corporates in Stuttgart. Then she introduced me to her partner and her sons.

We had some jokes about the Germans' English, she told her experiences in the past 20 years. Her partner told about his. He was quite excited to learn that I am from India for he was quite a regular visitor to Kolkata for some vague spiritual reasons. After a lot of days I had a nice talk with totally new people and had a great time.

Kaciane told me that they were always quite close to the Indian community in the U.K. and they used to go to the Indian restaurants quite often, in London as well as in Stuttgart. Following this she gave me her phone no and asked me to call anytime on the weekdays so that they could take me for dinner in an Indian restaurant. I was quite excited for it was a long time since I had had some nice spicy Indian food and started daydreaming about butter chicken and tandoori chicken. Meanwhile the match got over and we had those typical good-bye and will-call-you talks. I returned with a sense of achievement. I had made new friends of entirely different age group, ethnicity, colour and culture. More importantly I was to get a free Indian dinner and couldn't resist that temptation.

After about a week I called her up asking if they were free. Unfortunately, that day her sister from U.K. had come and they were going out and she asked me to call in the next week. The next week was the first week of July. My train pass had expired. Now, to go to Stadtmitte and come back, it would have cost me 4.4 euros. A normal meal which I used to cook, cost me less than 1 euro. This Indian dinner treat was no longer free. With the temptation for saving 3.4 euros I never called her up. I came back to India and almost forgot about everything. Everything comes back to me as I am removing all the stuff which I no longer need and the question comes to my mind as to what do I do with this paper. It has the sweet memories of the great hospitality shown by complete strangers and also associated with it is the fact, which certainly doesn't make me feel proud, that for a meager sum of 3.3 euros I did not return the elegant conduct that was required out of me. But then, life's long or so I feel. I might go to Stuttgart someday. She might still be there and maybe that time I would call and take them for dinner...or so do I convince myself and put that yellow paper in my wallet for it's the sweet memories associated with that paper that I don't want to get rid of. Maybe next time.....