"Saar! stop. Stop!"
We were cruising down the wide and almost empty road one late afternoon.
Being Sunday, there was hardly any traffic.
We had some errands to finish. And then decided to have a look around since we were inside the city anyway.
That's when we heard the urgent call.
We stopped and a policeman walks up to us, signals us to roll down the windows and asks for the licence.
B shows it to him. Hmmm ... has a long look at it.
"Road taxaa saar." He says matter of factly.
Road tax?! Why?
"Outside state car saar".
I could see he was a very young man ...with a thin, simple face.
And immediately realised his motive.
A lonely road on a quiet afternoon. Trying his luck.
Hard luck. This fish was not for his bait.
"So?"
"Road taxaa saar".
Road tax, to be collected by a traffic constable, was hilarious enough.
Road tax, to be collected by a traffic constable, was hilarious enough.
I hurriedly hide behind my purse and start to cough vigorously ... desperately trying
to gulp down the laughter
forcing its way up my throat.
to gulp down the laughter
forcing its way up my throat.
Then B says, with deadpan face, "Touristaa saar".
( B has a knack of picking up languages ... with their accents real quick. )
Now he looks flummoxed.
( B has a knack of picking up languages ... with their accents real quick. )
Now he looks flummoxed.
The man and B were looking at each other, both smiling. Yet warring.
Waiting for the other to speak.
Two bikes zoom by. The man turns and has a look.
But decides we are the fatter catch.
After a while, I decide it is best not to antagonise the kid any more.
So pick up the two tickets we had bought for a visit to Tipu Sultan's summer palace close by
... and hand it to him.
He actually scratches his head , looking at them.
And waves us on.
And I feel sorry for him.
B insists on keeping those two tickets on the dashboard ... just in case another traffic police
decides to collect road tax again!!
"There is no time or date stamp ... see!"
I don't have the heart to tell him that we will have to be in the vicinity of Tipu Sultan's home to be safe.
:-)
We have always loved to travel and explore new places.
But encounters on a daily basis like these are so new to us that we actually are savouring them.
Especially when we have become language handicapped.
Like, when I asked my help to clean the window sills when cleaning rooms.
And she kept repeating "Daaeeeleee??"
???
She does not know Hindi. "A little English only."
It was long after she had left that it suddenly struck me ... daily!!!!!
Switching back ...
Among the hosts of things that I miss, after we moved, is the glorious sunlight on my dining table.
These snaps were taken months ago ...
when I was clicking but not posting.
Pulled them out today.
And while I cooked a special mangshor jhol and mishti bhaat lunch for myself,
am posting these for you.
Wonderfully crispy pyaaj ke pakore.
Nothing much to to to make these golden delights.
I had some left over dal .. who doesn't? ... so used it to make these.
Need :
Besan
Left over dal ... if you don't have any, just use water
Onions - chopped
Green chillies - chopped
Fresh coriander leaves - chopped
Salt
Red chilli powder
Oil to deep fry
How to :
Mix everything together, except the oil to make a thick paste.
Heat oil.
Scoop out small balls and deep fry on low heat, till golden brown.
Remove and serve hot with ketchup or chutney.
I love these with a hot cup of adrakwali chai.
And you?
Enjoy! :-)