₹100, One Parantha, and Pure Panic 😂

Some memories are made when everything goes according to plan. Others are made when you and your best friend collectively lose your remaining brain cells. This story belongs to the second category.One fine day, my friend and I were roaming around, pretending to be two financially 

independent women who had their lives completely figured out. In reality, our combined bank balance probably couldn’t have sponsored a decent pizza. But confidence? We had plenty.

While walking, we spotted a beautiful hotel. Glass doors, fancy interiors, shiny floors, and an atmosphere that screamed MONEY. Unfortunately, our two brain cells looked at the building and concluded, “Oh, nice! Must be an ordinary hotel. Let’s go inside.”And inside we went.Not a single doubt. Not a single question. We walked in like we owned the place, carrying approximately ₹100 between us and the confidence of two billionaires attending a business meeting.

The moment we entered, reality slapped us harder than a school principal catching students bunking class.Everything was TOO fancy.

The reception looked expensive. The furniture looked expensive. Even the people walking around looked like they had never checked their bank balance before ordering food.

My friend looked at me.I looked at my friend.Without saying a word, we both understood that we had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

“Bro,” she whispered, “I think this is a five-star hotel.”I smiled nervously. “No, no. Maybe it’s just decorated nicely.”Then I saw a man wearing a suit that probably cost more than everything I owned combined.My soul left my body.We couldn’t simply turn around and walk out. That would mean admitting we didn’t belong there, and somehow, our teenage pride considered that a bigger crime than entering a luxury hotel with ₹100.So we kept walking.Every step felt like we were being monitored by invisible security cameras. I was convinced the receptionist was secretly calling security because two suspicious girls had entered the premises without looking financially qualified.

“Let’s leave,” my friend whispered.“HOW?” I whispered back. “We’ll look suspicious!”We were trapped by our own stupidity.

Then, in a moment of pure survival instinct, we spotted the restaurant.And my friend had a brilliant idea.“Let’s order something.”I stared at her. “WITH WHAT MONEY?”

“Something cheap.”“IN THIS PLACE? EVEN THE WATER PROBABLY HAS A SERVICE CHARGE!”But panic makes people do extraordinary things. So we approached the menu like detectives investigating a murder.And there it was.A PARANTHA.Our saviour. Our lifeline. Our only hope.We ordered one, praying that the price 

wouldn’t require us to sell our kidneys. Every second until the bill arrived felt like a financial thriller.Finally, the bill came.We paid, thanked the waiter with the politeness of people escaping a court case, and walked out as casually as possible.The moment we stepped outside, WE RAN.Not literally, because we still wanted to 

preserve some dignity, but emotionally? We were sprinting.To this day, whenever we remember that incident, we laugh until our stomachs hurt.We entered a luxury hotel with ₹100, 

discovered we were financially unqualified for the building, and survived by ordering a parantha.Forget five-star experiences.We had a five-star panic attack with a side of Indian bread.

And honestly? Best parantha of our lives.