Bougainvilleas

Image: pixabay.com I have the uncanny ability to order the worst, absolutely the worst item off any restaurant food menu. Today, to be safe, I called V for recommendations. My calls went unanswered, so I decided to go with my totally fallible instinct. I took time thinking how each dish would feel, how it would affect me and then let the waiter help me with choosing. I went for a dahi raj kachori (Or some such thing! I may have actually gone for just the dahi . It is an elixir of sorts for us south Indians). I shifted to a warmer table to escape the air-conditioner. Across my new seat, there was this family – mother, father and son, and between them were fluffy yet crisp looking bhaturas . Ones that always tempted me to deflate by poking a finger in them. I summoned a passing waiter and changed my order. I looked on at the family with a fond smile. I started studying them surreptitiously. Suddenly, I developed a vague sense of unease about my order. And just as s...