Ah, Sector V, the concrete jungle where our academic dreams took root. And amidst its steel and glass, stood Kareem's, a haven of aroma and warmth.
First outing with professors!
Today, it wasn't just the mutton biryani that simmered, but nostalgia too. Dr. Sujay, our HOD, with his twinkling eyes and infectious enthusiasm, had orchestrated this reunion. Vhysakh, his golden boy, back from Poland, a PhD gleaming on his resume.
We, Ankita and I, mere Masters students, huddled around like chicks seeking warmth. Vhysakh, once our institute student , now a seasoned researcher, spun tales of Krakow's cobbled streets, of labs buzzing with ideas, and of late-night debates that fueled his thesis. His words, spiced with laughter and wisdom, painted a future we could almost taste.
Dr. Sujay, ever the catalyst, egged us on. "See, Ankita? This is what passion does! Vhysakh dreamt, dared, and look at him now!" Ankita, ever the pragmatist, countered, "But Poland, Dr. Sujoy? Isn't that, like, another planet?"
Vhysakh chuckled, "Another planet with the no biryani, believe me." He winked at the steaming dish, its aroma a silent language we all understood. It spoke of shared meals in the canteen, of late-night study sessions fueled by chai and gossip, of friendships forged in the crucible of exams.
As the last morsel of biryani vanished, a bittersweet ache bloomed in my chest. Vhysakh's journey, both literal and metaphorical, had ignited a spark within us. Maybe Poland wasn't just a dot on the map anymore, but a possibility, a whisper of "what if?" We stepped out of Kareem's, the Kolkata night air buzzing with newfound dreams. Vhysakh, our Pied Piper of academia, had led the way, leaving behind a trail of mutton-scented inspiration.
And in that moment, Sector V wasn't just a concrete jungle anymore. It was a launchpad, a constellation of possibilities, all thanks to a steaming plate of biryani and a story whispered across continents.
An error has occurred! Please try again in a few minutes