By 10 o'clock in the evening, we were still sitting, chatting, and getting hungry again. Arthur and I went to the nearest shawarma place. When we entered, it was packed. With that many people at this hour, it was evident that the food was really good. We ordered four shawarmas and two two-liter bottles of Coca-Cola. I paid for the order, thanking the guys for providing me accommodation. With our order in hand, we returned home to the guys.

After finishing the shawarmas, we continued our conversation. The guys told me that they are being evicted from this apartment due to an increase in the number of tenants and rising rent, which they cannot afford. Arthur said he would move back to the dormitory, while Timas and Baubek would rent a one-bedroom apartment for the two of them. I was surprised by the behavior of the apartment owners, but the guys were still willing to help people like me. Before going to sleep, I took a shower and went to bed in the bedroom they gave me, while the three of them slept in the living room.

The next day, Arthur helped me to get to the building where the Indian students study. First, we went to the guys who had a class. Arthur went into the classroom and asked the professor when there would be a break so that I could talk to the guys about my visa payment question. He granted permission but said we would have to wait for about half an hour, and to avoid waiting in the corridor, we could sit in his office.

We entered a small office opposite the classroom, with a model of the human body in each cabinet and posters detailing the organs of the human body. Overall, it was quite an intriguing read.

As soon as the class ended and the guys were free, we approached them, and I began stating my request.

Guys, I need help with paying for my visa to India. I was told you could assist me.

We are not from India, but from Pakistan.

Oh, I apologize. Have a good day.

Same to you.

Pakistan and India have had a long-standing armed conflict between them, but it is mostly on the political arena. Outside their countries, Pakistanis and Indians interact with each other normally. Even in India, I have heard from Indians that Pakistanis are good people, and these wars mostly benefit politicians.

After that, Arthur and I headed towards the Indian hostel, but before we reached the hallway, we bumped into a guy who was already in his final year, and Arthur was certain he was from India. So we approached him and introduced ourselves. His name is Jim. He was slender, of average height, wearing a suit and shoes. You couldn't immediately tell he was a student; he looked more like a young professor.

I'm planning to go to India, and I need help to pay for the visa.

Yes, of course, I can help.

Arthur hurried off to his classes when he realized we had found the right person. Jim and I tried a couple of times to pay for the visa using his card, but unfortunately, it didn't work. After that, he told me not to worry and invited me to go with him. Leaving the building, we headed to the hostel where his compatriots lived. The slight drizzle outside didn't seem to want to stop.

At the entrance of the Indian hostel, we were greeted not only by a 55-year-old Slavic-looking female guard but also by a multitude of mixed scents and aromas of spices. The guard was so surprised to see a white person in the hostel accompanied by an Indian that she bombarded us with numerous questions: who, where, why, and what for? While answering her barrage of questions, I also faced a flurry of inquiries from passing Indians who stopped to ask my name, where I was from, and what I was doing there. I was fortunate to have Jim with me. He did his best to help me fend off these questioning people while simultaneously calling up all the guys and asking if they or their relatives had an AXEL bank card.