Every few months I remember a friend whom I lost touch, with whom I have spent days so fully yet without knowing that they will be just a memory in some time.
I would never forget the first time I met Moideen. Back in 2006 when I went to London for the first time alone. It was a dark and cold winter. Nobody told me that as we move away from the equator, the days become shorter! The company folks although, did teach me how to eat in front of clients and how to use toilet paper. For a month after I landed in London, every day after work I would go to my room, look at the same bottle of Vodka that was supposed to keep me warm but never did. I would go out to the streets after work, but it was too cold to stay long. One day, I went to the nearby takeaway place and was trying to decide what to eat from the backlit menu hung on top. Suddenly I heard Malayalam after 3 long weeks of exclusive British English, it echoed: "Malayalee annale?! (You are a Malayalee, right?)”. It was the guy behind the cash counter, the one, and only Moideen! I asked back curiously - "Engane manasilayi? (How did you know?". He replied with a smile - "Menu kandu pakachu noki nikumbo manasilayi. (I understood from the bewildered look on your face on seeing the menu)". He knew I was attempting to convert the rates in Pound to INR. That was the beginning of a true friendship that lasted for a few good long months.
Moideen's life stories were like those from the movies. Moideen did not show any interest in studies. At a young age, he had fled to Hyderabad while still a teenager. He started working at a restaurant and soon learned some cooking skills. I remember how quickly he would cook, and it would still be mouthwatering! While having food at his UK takeaway place, he would always encourage me to talk to a Pakistani girl who came to use the public phone near his takeaway place. She was very pretty and oddly dressed in a colorful Pakistani dress in central London. Sadly, I would walk up to her but never had the courage to talk to her. Moideen however, never gave up on the hope to find a girlfriend for me while his stories continued. He told me how he got a chance to work at a rich Arab palace in the middle east. Stories of unlimited luxury, I would drool just listening to it. Tales of unlimited drinks and food that were thrown away at the end of every day. The final story was how he came to the UK with the Sheik and never went back! He absconded and started a new life in the UK, after he burnt his old passport, and acquired a new identity! Moideen was like the Jason Bourne of Master Chef.
On a usual day, I would eat anything from his takeaway place and the standard rate was 2 pounds regardless of what I ate. Life was always kind to my tummy. Moideen then got a job at a high-end Indian restaurant far from London and slowly we drifted apart. One last time I saw him was when he invited me to his new workplace. It was a long way by bus, my memories of the travel are faint. But once I reached there it was like being in Gusto's restaurant. I waited in the kitchen, all shiny steel with parallel counters where Moideen & his mates did their magic. Once the day came to an end, we went back to his room and he brought chicken tikka, bread, and red wine and we talked for the last time face to face. Moideen was the second in line to the main chef then. I do hope he has climbed to the top. I bet he has.
Once I got back to India, I got disconnected from my UK life and friends as I was busy making my life back in Trivandrum. Unfortunately, it was too late when I realized I did not know how to contact Moideen. Since then I have looked him up on Facebook but in vain. I still do, occasionally. Although, now I am not sure if I would recognize a 15-year-older-him.
So, to a good friend and an important part of my life. Cheers!
