While walking through the narrow streets of Bologna, one evening, I heard, or I thought I heard, some one talking in Panjabi. I must be mistaken, I told myself and continued my walk. The Punjabi sound became louder, clearer and with that my Punjabi heart also starting thumping loudly. And then I saw it all- an Indian or more correctly a Punjabi restaurant.
Without a second thought, I went inside. It was a bit early for dinner and the restaurant was almost empty. I relaxed and when an Indian looking waiter came to take order, I told him in Punjabi- ik Chicken Korma, tandoori roti tey coke. (One Chicken Korma, Tandoori flat bread and Coca-Cola).
Suddenly a huge smile appeared on the face of the waiter and we started chatting in Punjabi and Hindustani/Urdu mix. It was not an Indian but a Pakistani restaurant and all the staff were from Pakistani Punjab.
And then my order arrived. Both the Chicken Korma and roti were both good looking and tasty and I enjoyed my dinner thoroughly. Then I went to the Reception as one was supposed to make payment there. The Receptionist smiled and said Sir, you are from Indian Punjab and are our guest. Dinner was complimentary on our restaurant. A little surprised, I insisted on making payment. Reluctantly he told me the bill amount and I paid him adding 10% as tip.
No, Sir, No, it was a pleasure serving you and we won't take any tip. All my efforts to persuade them failed and I reluctantly left the restaurant felling nostalgic, satisfied and with a strange soft smile.
