Butter Chicken and Rumali Rotis

Made a plan to catch up with Fr. Robin yesterday so I headed to Andheri after work and was reached Holy Family Church by 7:30PM. We chatted for a while about this and that until Ryan and Neil caught up with us about 30 minutes or so later. More conversation ensued about Ryans travels around the country and why we couldnt catch up for over a month. We discussed people drowning and recalled lives we'd saved or people we let die depending upon the situation. I've been trying to impress upon Neil the importance of being cold and calculative about self preservation rather than being overcome by the noble intentions of saving lives. A dying man can drown you in his attempts to save himself so you must be sure and careful before you attempt any sort of rescue. The conversation drifted to more lighter topics like Choirs singing at the White House and the International Youth Day celebrations held at Rio de Janeiro, the New Pope Francis with his liberal thinking and how its changing and opening up orthodox minds hitherto closed to modern notions. I drank some Irish Whiskey Tullamore Dew, pretty much like the other Scotch I've been drinking lately although Fr. didn't seem to appreciate it much but then nothing could beat Remy Martin or Hennessy in his opinion. We decided to order a couple of tubs of Butter Chicken from Sai Palace next door and we ordered 8 Rumali Rotis in spite of their price (about Rs. 40/- each). By then we'd opened up our beers and I was drinking out of the mug I was soon to part with, a nice large mouthed jug that takes in almost the entire bottle. Fr. Robin was lamenting about the tall narrow ones that kill drinking pleasure and I'd promised to get him one so I gave him the best mug in my fine collection. Although purchased years ago, none of my later additions could compare to this crystal cut beauty and as I drank I kept stroking the mug fondly wiping away the moisture accumulating on its contours. Our order soon arrived and we settled down to a quiet dinner in the next room so as not to disturb the sleeping fathers. In no time we had polished off everything save one solitary Rumali Roti. Dishes were washed, garbage was dumped and we went back to our room for some chocolate. I felt like some coffee but didnt voice my thoughts as it was rather late and too much trouble. We spoke a little longer now in hushed tones, discussing the fears that grip people and human urges... The eternal battle whether to hold back or to give in. A while later the three of us left Frs' quarters to let him prepare for the Discernment Retreat ahead of him the next day. As we exited the compound we were on the look out for a place we could finish off the last beer in our bag.