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As I open my laptop, my cursor habitually meanders on the windows spotlight ‘Like what you see’ option to choose lock screen wallpaper for the day. While fiddling through many landscapes, I get stuck on the picture of five gray wolves. "Stay with the pack," I mumble to myself and smile. Out of all the myriad life lessons, circumstances have thrown at me, these four golden words and its speaker have imprinted me for life, just like a pack of wolves holding on tight to their clique. Its summertime in Kolkata, India. I am standing under a tree, battling heat waves in front of a small Dhaba, debating the worth of entering a crowd drenched in sweat. “Man, what rush and for what? One more plate of greasy stuff." I say a bit loud. “Aren’t you here for the same reason?” I look back biting my tongue in sheer embarrassment hoping to see a friendly face. Sushmita, a woman in her late twenties, is looking at me with Monalisa expression, leaving me perplexed how to react? I try to cut the tension with a sheepish smile. She smiles back, exchanges few customary chit chats and goes ahead. Somehow, I manage to get inside too and grab a seat. I notice, she is sitting in a table parallel to me with a friend. While I wait for someone to take my order, I can’t help but admire her style. Oxidized jewelry worn on a white Dhakai saree paired with a light green sleeveless blouse. I start imagining myself replicating her style for a friend’s forthcoming engagement party. The waiter interrupts my daydreaming with his voice, “Ma'am, order please!" I order Macher Jhol with steamed rice. I have been waiting to try this dish for a long time and, word has it, this place makes the best. Also, I request him to clean my tabletop as it feels sticky. Within a few minutes, a guy comes with a bucket and a rag. My OCD triggers as he splats the over-damped rag on the table and wipes away, leaving behind a thin trail of iridescent oily water smear on the top. After ten minutes, the waiter arrives with my order. The intense red color of the dish makes my pupil dilate. I take a few bites and, my nostrils flare-up. So, I decide not to exploit my belly with this paprika-oil concoction further. While paying the bill, my half-empty stomach grumbles, making me share an awkward grin with the waiter. Disappointed, hungry and with a runny reindeer nose, I wait for my change. Meanwhile, I see a young couple at the entrance trying to maneuver their way through the clamoring crowd of belching customers. I can’t help but wince in pain when the husband steps on my foot in the process of making his way to the adjacent table. Seeing no expression of remorse in his eyes or words, I quickly demand an apology that leads to an argument. Before his wife could join the squabble, Sushmita interrupts the cacophony with her calm address to the woman, “least your husband could do was apologize." The wife pauses for some time, debates within at the sudden interference of a stranger taking my side and, asks him to apologize. Taken aback by his wife’s demeanor, the man retreats and does as he was told. As we step outside, Sushmita breaks the silence, “always stay with the pack." I look at her inquisitively with anticipation to elaborate. “We women are like Wolves. Loyal and protective of our sisters in times of need. We just need a howl to gather up." She adds further with a wink. “Moreover, a wife above anyone else knows her husband better." I am amused at this analogy. “You mean he is going to couch-surf tonight." “You bet he is." And we start laughing. As I am about to take off, I look back for a friendly good-bye wave and find Sushmita engrossed in a deep conversation with her friend. “Stay with the pack," I mumble to myself and smile.