Arugudi

"You buffalo, what do those action mean?" asked my lecturer, a long haired middle aged man with a small paunch slowly peeking out of his blue kurtha, comfortably seated on a wire mesh office chair. It was my first British Literature class and I was struggling to explain the term 'bullock' in front of a packed class. The time was 10.17AM and the poem, Sumer is icumen in. As soon as those words left his larynx, the game was on. "Fear is like fire; it can be helpful if you know how to use it. If not, you will get burned". The words of my childhood idol, Mike Tyson. I had a rather protected childhood, a stark contrast to Tyson's. He plunged into boxing because he saw his idol, Muhammed Ali, getting beaten up by Joe Frazier in, what was potentially the last time the legend ever fought a professional bout. I started to fight because my dad told me that it's wrong if you don't right a wrong. "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee"; Muhammad...

The evening breeze and drizzling rain was a welcome sight as the raindrops played it part in reducing the heat by atleast a couple of degrees. The sun was cut in half, forming a semicircle in the horizon as the sky taking on a tinge of orange hue was a sight to behold. The drizzle had already invited a lot of the locals towards their kitchens, frying up sizzling hot fried fritters.  The aroma of the bajiyas and kebabs filled the air as I decided to enjoy the weather with a walk, something I had not done for quite sometime. Well, my brain felt like it was a good explanation to mask the cravings for 'chatpata food' and honestly, I could hardly blame it. The first wave of COVID-19 was a recent memory. While the government was postive that it had managed to keep the virus at bay, the corona scare was still at large. The times were such. Street food that was a staple in a foodie's life had suddenly turned into a luxury one couldn't afford.  But, there was something different...