Mess company, sealed with a touch

In manipal I usually take my meals in the mess, be it the central food court mess or the Nehru mess at the far end of my hostel. The obvious reason is, it is dirt cheap (only about RM100 a month) as compared to eating out… and the food does not make any difference to me as I find that, wherever I go, I will get the same kind of food with the same kind of taste – so better for me to settle down in one place, and subscribe to the cheapest and healthiest (with all the mutual supplementation of nutrients involved) mess in town.

Although some of my friends do accuse me of being a penny-pinching miser wanting to save money…”save money for what?” I ask them.

“To get MARRIED la! Pandai la you.”

Ok whatever… but actually the point of this post is not to discuss about the food court, but to discuss about the mess people, India’s Indians social etiquettes.

I find that the local Indians here; they have this admirable tendency, never to eat alone. Even if they come to the food court by themselves, they’ll share the table with another person of the same boat, be it a stranger.

Very often when I sit alone during my meal, a figure, sighted at the corner of my eye, approaches the table. I look up hoping to see my classmate or a nice junior but… no, it is not to be. A local Indian takes that seat even though there are a lot of empty places around. This person which I’m not acquainted to at all joins me out of no where.

Is it culture or just plain curiosity - taking into account that I am a foreigner especially, a rare Chinese on the Indian subcontinent - I'm not too sure.

And this person I met today, sharing my table, had also the courtesy to switch on the fan as well.

The next best etiquette, not relating to the mess, is their tendency, even for males, to hold each other’s hand. If it is in Malaysia means… habis lor… you’ll be labeled as GAY and everything that comes with it. But in India there is no such mentality. When I hold your hand means that I want to be close to you, that’s all. Best friend kind of feeling; friendship with a touch; nothing else but mere affirmation of the heart. Even my male lecturers do it. (sorry no pic)

Boy I miss those kindergarten days where you had had to hold your partner’s hand and walk two by two to the classroom.

I remember, towards the end of our holiday tour (which saw us going to China, Tibet and Nepal for a whole month), I was at Patna, close to Nepal-Indian border. I made friends with this nine year old local Indian while waiting for my bus. This young boy whose uncle has a titbits shop close by, held my hand throughout, with a firm grip.

A great Indian insight to friendship……..