...'Kalkaji aa jayiyo'.

From the gloomy days of sambar, I have stepped into a rich, fattening city of butter chicken – where amongst Mother Dairy, accelerating vespas, and brawny(not brainy) men lies the invigorating spirit of New Delhi.

Besides the cathartic sensation of hindi galis, I was beginning to enjoy the company of a sinful man. Now this very sinful man believed, the gym next door would make the world unhappy.


Near the second gol-chakkar at Kalkaji, just next to the Dental Clinic resides this honourable man. He has been stationed there for a tidy long time. This man is a pot-bellied, pleasant looking chaat-wala. Never seen him wear anything but white; stainless and crumpled. He’s stout, brimming with self pride and ability. He knows your dirty thoughts- which primarily begin and cease with food. If you turn away, he flicks a small chopped dice of aloo and slowly clouds you with his slightly spicy, slightly chatpata aroma.And when you surrender, he is more than happy to tell you, why happiness is food.

He is heroic – his tikkis are unmatched.If you have ever tried to tame hunger, you should never approach this man. That makes him angry.

His frying pan almost reflects the size of his heart. His magic potions of pudina chutney, imli, dahi, namak, pyaaz and mirch are sealed in clean glass bottles, shimmering under a bare bright bulb. I forget the name of his shop on wheels, but what I remember is, his perfect temerity about the bliss he was about to give.
He folds his sleeves and lets out a slight grunt before the magic show. He places a tikki hastily but not ruthlessly so, in his pool of gleaming oil. They instantly turned golden. Almost like a command.

Passersby walk on. Some stand next to the book-shop beside his territory. Some move on to better things, while the ones who know what joy is, stop. They gather around his shop; the magic show is on. The tikkis are still frying.

Aware of rising appetite, with maddening speed he rushes the tikkis to perfection. A dollop of dahi, a dash of imli chutney, pudina chutney, lots of pyaaz, mirch and a few sticks of bhujiya. Happiness has arrived.

The job is done. As the audience begins extolling, he smiles with complete knowledge of being the best. He watches the unruly tongues flap in joy,while the calorie-dreading woman bites knowingly into the ball of sin,wimpering, 'Iski ma ki…'