The little secret

The summer is casting its shadow over Kolkata. The evenings are breezy but the breez bears the heat.

It was bit late in the evening and the “pani puri” shops were not as crowded as it were couple of hours back. I still looked for the shop which had least number of people and when I found one, I walked towards it. I was handed a plate and one by one pani-puri was demolished within my mouth.

I love to observe people. Every snack shop had a particular crowd. There was a group of mid-aged women around the pani-puri shop just opposite to me. Few bikes encircled the “muglaiwala”. The very famous “garam-ganti” shop was busy giving the mouth-watering “bhujiyas” to the children. Few girls were giggling around the “chat-shop” and the sweet shops seemed like it belonged to the aged men (who mostly had diabetes and just stealthily satisfying their craving for sweets).

The shop, where I stood, was comparitively desserted untill a grand-father and a grand-daughter came arguing with each other. The little girl had all the reasons of the world to have pani-puri.

“We are getting late kid”
“But Grand -pa this shop is empty we can make it quick”

“But this is so sour and u will catch cold”
“Grand-pa it is summers now, I won’t catch cold even if I wish to”

“And see it is spicy”
“That we can ask the pani-puri uncle to put less spice on mine”

“What if your mother comes to know?”
“We aren’t goint to tell her right?”

The Grand-pa was still not convinced, but I could make out he was about to give-up to her grand-daughter’s request. The shopkeeper looked at Grand -pa who still wore the look of dissatisfaction. The little girl witched her little eyes and grand-pa nodded his head.

“Uncle – Do not put tamrind – water in my pani-puri and very little spice” – and she smiles looking at her grand-father. And this time he smiled and felt better.

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