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truth”.
    “Perhaps not, but with due respect I would love to listen to your narration”.
    “What would you like to know about me” Isha puts a query on me.
    The waiter arrived by then with stack of plates, placed on our table and off to get the meal. “Anything you want to share” I muttered.
    “Well, I am basically an NRI from Houston”.
    “I knew it. So, what do you like about America” I inquired in an excitement.
    “All most everything, I guess”.
    We were served with the chicken tandoori while our conversation kept processing. She sniffed the smell that tasted very catchy into her nose flavouring out the fragrance of Indian Spice.
    “I love the smell” she spoke with her mouth watering inside as I could deduce by her expression. She held her spoon and fork in her hand.
    “But, you know you’re unlike other NRI”.
    That was my prolific compliment I commented on her, since I’ve never come across any NRI, except for her the first in my life.
    “Why did you just say that” she lifted her voice.
    “Just like that.........So for how many years have you been there?”.
    “Well, I was born and brought up there”.
    “That sounds absolutely well...huh!!”.
    She took a bite of a chicken which She sliced with an effort through a knife.
    “It taste good” she crackled.
    “Yeah!! One of my favourite” I added my words.
    “So, tell me something about you”.
    To make the ambient more familiar and extensively cultured there were sweet music being played as background score.
    “Well, what you want to know about me”.
    “Anything you wish” she sensitized her voice softly.
    “Well, I’m local itself.....I mean I’m Indian” I uttered being little funny.
    “I know that Idiot” she chuckled at me.
    “Ok!!! Forget about it and tell me where are we going to go next” she hinted me.
    “Anywhere, wherever out foots carries us”.
    She smiled peeking her eyes at me.
    “Tell me how did you like the recipe with Indian Spice”.
    “Well, it was fantastically mouth watering”.
    We had completed the remaining meal as our talk continued to extent. The last thing remaining before we could leave was the cash bill. I handed over the cash to pay the bill with the changes as service gift to the waiter. She stood high from her chair, clutched back all her belongings. She held her camera on one of her shoulder hanging out through the thinly elastic thread. On the other hand she carried her hand bag. But this time she kept out of my sight the Novel she carried. In fact, it was inside her bag. We resolved our way through the glass door. My hand pushed it hard to open a way for her. She stepped out and I followed her. We gathered our way for a while.
    “So, what’s your plan next” her voice caught my ear drum.
    “As I said where ever it takes”.
    “Alright, I trust you” she grinned.
    In the meanwhile I was looking for a street book store as we followed our way.
    “So, what’s your job in America” I questioned her.
    “Well, I’m a graduate in medicine and now I work in a huge enterprise”.
    “What about you?”.
    “I’m yet to complete my graduation, with a year left”.
    “Hold on” I squeaked.
    She hitched for a moment and waited. I laid my step towards the street book store.
    A small boy came up and uttered “Yes! Sir What can I do for you”.
    All I was searching a guide map of Mumbai. I recommended him for a guide map. Within a minute the boy flipping it’s pages handed over to me. I paid around thirty bucks for it. The boy was happy with the extra possession he got that day.
    “So, here we go anywhere you wish” with my exemplary behaviour.
    She grinned “Well, neither both of us know anything about the city but yes this is going to lead us the whole tour”.
    She took the map from my hand, turned few pages.
    “Hey, look lets drive to Marine drive” she chuckled.
    “Really you want to go there, it’s tremendously worth viewing”.
    I glanced at my wrist watch and the time