A story about a curry OR what keeps a man going
Disclaimer: the story below is unedited. It was written without a plan or structure. It was written out of inspiration, while killing time in Cafe Nero in-between lectures at Cambridge.
A 25 year old boy, named James, was working for a small but very well-known financial company in the City of London. He was one of the youngest associates at his firm and often thought that he was one of the luckiest men alive. What else was there to wish for?
One day, he was called into his manager’s office. As it turned out, the company he was working for went bankrupt. As well as that, all his accounts were suspended, leaving him and the rest of the company broke.
He left the building. He was feeling crushed. Everything he was working for was gone. All his savings were lost. He took his wallet out of the pocket and checked the contents… 100 pounds. That was all. What will he do next? He was trying to sort out his thoughts as he was walking.
He suddenly realised that he was not far from the Cruck Club of which he was a member. He decided that he would go there, since the Club in the last 4 years had become a second home to him. The time was approaching one o’clock.
There is a tradition at private members’ clubs that, if you come alone to lunch or dinner, you have the privilege of joining the members’ table. The only rule is to speak to whomever sits there.
James decided that having lunch at the Club was the best thing he could do, even if he had to spend all his remaining money on it. The world can fall apart, but a gentleman will always find time for a quality lunch.
As he joined the members’ table, he saw an old gentleman between 85 and 95 years of age. He sat down next to him.
- Good day, Sir.
- Good day, young chap. – said the old gentleman.
- How are you today?
- Very well. This is the best part of my day, I say. The curry here is delicious. What about you, young chap?
- I am not too well, to be honest, Sir. I have lost everything I had.
- What do you mean?
- The company I was working for went bankrupt. I have no job. And all my savings now belong to the bank.
- I say, young chap, you call that a loss?
- Well, absolutely, Sir!
- Let me tell you a story. When I was 8 years old, my family was living in Vienna. This was the time of the Second World War. My father was Jewish and was behaving like a fool, I should say. He believed that the Nazis would not touch his family, since he was one of the most prominent businessmen at the time. One day, they came to our house. They dragged me and my parents to the living room and threw us on the floor. They then dragged us to the streets. Crowds of people were walking under the threat of Nazi guns. We had no other choice than to join them. As we approached a crossing, we saw that a tall and strong Nazi officer was separating men, women and children into three groups. As we realised that, it was already too late. One second, I saw my parents walking next to me, my mum was holding my hand, the other second, I was alone, surrounded by other children, all in tears.
- My lord…
- I have not seen my parents since.
- I am so sorry, Sir.
- That’s all right, young chap. I have been searching for them all my life and have had no success.
- That must be horrible. What keeps you going?
- You see, young man, a loss is nothing unless you lose your family. Nobody cares about jobs at my age, but you do not yet understand that at your age. Now, with only a couple of years left, all I care about is the curry.
- The curry?
- Yes, young chap. I used to hate curry when I was younger. My parents, on the other hand, used to love it. We used to have curry nights with candles and music… You see, my mother played the piano as an angel. I have not seen them since I was 8. I have no photographs of them. All I have left of them is this one memory and the curry. You asked me what keeps me going? It is the curry, son.
A waiter approached the table. What would you like to order?
- One curry – replied the old gentleman.
- Make it two curries – replied James.
