Second Chance: A Dark Tale of Urban India

Chapter 172: Namrata again

Rohit ended the call and moved toward the growing commotion near the food distribution area.

At the very least, the crowd management had improved slightly this time. Separate lines had finally been formed for men and women before entering the temple premises.

Near the center, a massive steel bowl nearly a meter wide had been brought forward to distribute khichdi onto thermocol plates.

The familiar smell instantly reminded Rohit of the same simple meal he had eaten after returning home from the hospital with his injured hand.

Most people quietly carried the prasad away with them after receiving it, but a smaller group had gathered nearby around what appeared to be a heated argument between a local girl and a foreign couple.

The scene was rapidly attracting attention.

More and more people slowed down to watch, and the sight of several phones already recording the confrontation gave Rohit a rough idea of what was happening.

He glanced around instinctively, searching for Riya, but she was nowhere to be seen.

The appointed authorities were present nearby, yet none of them looked interested in intervening.

Of course.

Nobody wanted the headache of getting involved in a public dispute with foreigners inside a temple.

Seeing no other option, Rohit decided to step in before the situation spiraled into some exaggerated online scandal about foreign tourists being harassed in a religious place, especially when it was all Riya’s plan.

As he approached closer, the voice of the arguing girl began to sound strangely familiar, though he couldn’t identify her immediately since she was facing away from him.

She was speaking fluent English.

"No, you cannot justify it like that," she said sharply. "It’s their personal choice how they eat. We don’t tell you how to live your lives, so why are you interfering in ours? Just because people eat with their hands doesn’t make them primitive."

The foreign man looked furious, aggressively speaking into his phone while the woman beside him attempted to calm the situation.

"Look, ma’am," the woman said carefully, "we don’t want any trouble. We were only trying to record the temple and food distribution. My husband may have phrased something poorly, but we genuinely respect your culture."

Rohit stepped forward.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said calmly, "but may I know what exactly is happening here?"

He paused midway through the sentence as the local girl finally turned around.

Namrata.

"...Consider me someone from the authorities hosting this event."

Namrata’s face immediately paled.

For a brief second, pure embarrassment flashed across her expression.

Never in her worst imagination had she expected Rohit to witness her publicly arguing with foreigners like this.

And now he had walked directly into the middle of it.

Meanwhile, the foreign woman visibly relaxed after noticing Rohit’s composed appearance. She likely assumed someone from management had finally arrived to take their side.

The foreign man, however, continued speaking angrily into his phone, clearly calling someone for support.

The woman quickly spoke up again,

"Thank God you came," she said. "We’re tourists from Canada. A friend of our guide invited us here to experience the temple ceremony and local traditions."

She pointed toward the food distribution area.

"My husband was only recording the prasad distribution when this girl suddenly accused us of insulting Indian culture and tried creating a scene. We feel extremely uncomfortable."

Namrata immediately protested.

"That’s not true!"

She turned toward Rohit instinctively before catching herself.

"They’re twisting the story," she said firmly. "I had no issue with them recording videos. But he was mocking people for eating with their hands and calling Indians primitive."

Several nearby locals who understood English nodded in agreement.

Rohit quietly raised his hand, signaling everyone to calm down.

Then he looked back at Namrata.

"Ma’am, please let me hear their perspective first, and let’s keep the conversation in English," he said politely. "That way everyone can understand clearly, and there won’t be any misunderstandings. Foreign tourists’ safety is very important to us."

The woman smirked faintly, clearly believing Rohit was siding with them.

She had likely experienced situations like this before.

Authorities usually preferred protecting international image over confronting foreign visitors publicly.

Namrata also seemed to understand Rohit’s intention and stopped reacting emotionally.

The foreign woman crossed her arms.

"As I said, my husband simply commented that eating rice with bare hands looked unusual to him. That’s all. We never intended to offend anyone."

Rohit’s eyes shifted toward the man.

"Did you call them primitive?"

The foreigner lowered his phone slowly, irritation clear on his face.

"And if I did?" he snapped. "You people are seriously getting offended over that?"

A murmur spread through the crowd.

The man scoffed and gestured toward several devotees eating khichdi nearby.

"Come on, look at this. What century are we living in? People eating rice with their hands in public? It looks uncivilized."

Namrata clenched her fists angrily.

The foreigner continued casually, almost mockingly.

"I understand if poor villages can’t afford proper cutlery, but spoons exist, don’t they?"

A few people in the crowd looked visibly furious now.

"And yes," he added bluntly, "I recorded it. If something looks strange to me, I’ll share it online. That’s my right."

Rohit felt slight irritation rise inside him.

Objectively speaking, the man’s perspective wasn’t entirely shocking. Even Rohit himself preferred using spoons while eating rice.

But cultural ignorance and outright disrespect were two very different things.

And being lectured publicly by an arrogant outsider inside a temple premises was beginning to test even his patience.

Rohit rubbed his temple slowly before speaking in a calm voice.

"Ma’am... sir... let’s not turn this into unnecessary drama."

His gaze settled on the foreign woman.

"We both know what kind of online content you were trying to create here."

Her expression stiffened slightly.

"So if your husband apologizes for the remarks, we can end this peacefully and move on."

The foreign man immediately laughed in disbelief.

"Apologize?" he repeated mockingly. "To them?"

He stepped forward arrogantly.

"Do you even know who my father is? If he wanted, he could probably buy this entire temple property without making a dent in his wealth."

The crowd immediately erupted into angry whispers.

"And yes," the man continued loudly, "I said Indians look primitive eating with their hands. Because to me, it does look primitive."

He pointed again toward the devotees.

"This is disgusting. I came here expecting culture, not this."

Then he looked directly at Rohit with a mocking grin.

"So what now? You’ll threaten me? Sue me? Go ahead. The moment my contacts arrive, we’ll see how long you keep your little authority here."

The atmosphere instantly became tense.

Several men in the crowd stepped forward angrily before nearby officers finally reacted and tried holding people back.

Just as Rohit was about to respond, a calm elderly voice spoke from behind the foreigner.

"Have you ever heard the phrase..." the voice said in clear English, "...When in Rome, do as the Romans do?"

Everyone turned around.

The temple priest had arrived.