Food Lanes

There is an all-day eatery right outside our building, on the side where the big sliding windows open. Early this morning, when I pushed the pane aside, the first batch of vadas and pooris were just going into hot oil. The fresh, moist coastal air was faintly fragrant with the savoury aroma of crisp dough, and the asfoetidic snip of potato curry.

With the distant sound of a broom hitting the paved road, it brought back vivid sensual memories of Dakshineswar at dawn, when the river was still misty, brooms whacked shrivelled leaves, and hinger kochuri outweighed piety.

Misty River. Misty River.



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