Madhuri and Ajay hopped out of the train at the buzzing railway station at Chennai.
Their favourite Uncle Swarup had recently moved from Mumbai to Chennai and opened a footwear store at the new Sitapur market.
Madhuri spread open a map of Chennai, while Ajay attempted to locate the area.
“After all, it’s a new locality,” he said, peering at the map. “No wonder it doesn’t show up here.”
“The best thing to do will be to call Swarup mama,” declared Madhuri.
“Gosh!” exclaimed Ajay after several failed attempts. “We have to find this grand location on our own.”
A man, who overheard their conversation, chipped in. “Sitapur? Which cabbie hasn’t heard of this new township?”
Madhuri and Ajay smiled. They boarded a black-and-yellow taxi and sped towards the central hub of the city. “Never thought it would be so easy,” exclaimed Madhuri.
At the market
The taxi arrived at a busy crossroads, with tall buildings all around. “Okay, get down here,” said the cabbie, “ And find your way to...”
“I don’t know his address,” said Madhuri, “My uncle’s name is Swarup Tripathi and he sells footwear.”
“Don’t worry,” the taxi driver encouraged, “many people buy footwear in Sitapur… not many sellers, you see.”
While walking around, they met a few young boys huddled together on the road. “Would any of you know a gentleman called Swarup Tripathi? He owns a footwear store...,” asked Madhuri
“Well,” replied one boy. “We know a Swarup who sells South Indian delicacies.”
“Not him,” said Ajay, promptly.
“Wait,” said Madhuri, “Does he have a thick beard and does he wear specs?”
“No…no…no,” answered another boy.
“His wife helps him in the restaurant kitchen,” added a third.
“Our uncle is a sworn bachelor,” said Madhuri
“Ah…by the way,” called out one lad, “Did you mean Jungle Walks-n-Wears?’
“That sounds like uncle’s store, all right…”
“Okay,” the boy stood and pointed. “Take the third lane, left turn… leave two lanes… right turn…and ask someone…”
They walked down the roads, following directions. After some time, their legs ached and <FZ,1,0,85>stomachs rumbled hungrily. After 15 minutes or so, they reached Jungle Walks-n-Wear, only to discover that the owner wasn’t their uncle.
“What do we do now?” wondered Madhuri. Opposite the store was a small eatery: Madhuri Yummy South Indian Delicacies.
“Come, let’s eat something,” suggested Ajay.
An attractive middle-aged lady approached them with a menu card. “A masala dosa and one onion uttappam,” Ajay placed his order.
“Five plain idlis for me,” added Madhuri.
As soon as the food was served, they dug into it. “I’m Madhuri,” smiled the lady, “Did you enjoy the meal?”
“What a coincidence,” said Ajay, “She is Madhuri too. We live in Kolkata.”
“Looks like we’ll finish our trip on the roadside … with no Uncle Swarup!” sighed Madhuri.
Found!
When they reached the cash counter, a clean-shaven bespectacled man leapt up from his chair. “Madhuri and Ajay! What a surprise!”
“Uncle Swarup?” Ajay’s jaws dropped in amazement. “Your beard? it’s gone?”
“What about your footwear showroom? How come you’re here?” quipped Madhuri.
Uncle Swarup raised his hands in surrender.
“And what about...?” Ajay stared at the other Madhuri.
“Well,” laughed Uncle Swarup, “my shoe business did not work. Then, I met this charming lady, a beard-hater, a terrific cook...”
“So?” asked Ajay.
“She’s your aunt,” winked uncle.
