I dream of early mornings, the chilled air steeped in reminiscence. I think not in cities but in food.
Chapati with pickles and curd.
Masala Dosa.
Steamed pork buns.
Guilin Rice Noodles.
Buff Momos and Balep.
Thali.
Chai. Chai. Chai.
Then there were spicy breakfast pizzas, fried bean curd, beer if you fancy. Heck, I'll even take the Nescafé!
As my senses are awakened by the tastes I so readily recall, the sounds come crashing in. And now I am immersed in the technicolour world I long for. I always beg; take me back! Yet it seems I almost visit whenever I please.
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