Two Exiled Tibetan Brothers' Enterprise: An Oddity Among Oddities

Just a part of his restaurant

Through my searching for Tilleul (lime fruit) facts online, whoop now like having developed a sense of physical energy, so a postprandial effect, ageing you can't disagree, I happened to hark back to my friend Ahtsang Khunchok's small venture here in Paris, a grab-and-walkaway outlet, a Tibetan kitchen in the metro station premises (Metro 13 Carrefour Pleyel, Direction: Saint-Denis Université). I visited it recently. So impressive, venturous, leave aside the friendly Tibetan vibes, I was really impressed by his curt remark: Why work under someone. There no time for enumerating those homemaking things I used to do in other simpler habitations back in India, at a Tibetan camp, namely an obsession of mine, appraising each valued piece of furniture or electronic home appliance in my own estimation, and wondering about the labours and fusses and thrills and why not money afforded for each, so daunting to me.

Yes, here, I want to say the present brand of his small enterprise is Bon Traiteur that he is thinking to change into Tibetan Kitchen. I found the stuffs delicious, home-cooked. Yes, as to indulge myself, from the restaurant proper, as it is one floor subterranean, I saw a flight of wide concrete steps on two sides leading up onto the concourse before a skyscraper, with more busy scenes on all sides. Yes, what I want to say is about those scurrying past to mount the steps or those dismounting them: they are themselves telling stories, those myriad souls' cries fading away unheard of, maybe without the means of an expression, maybe so much scattered despite toying with gizmos. I am always impressed with the idea of seeing a face once in my lifetime, so many such faces, as so odd I found my being here. Why here?

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