JOST A MON

He put his head down and began to eat, tasting everything quickly. The fish was excellent–salty and crisp on the outside, succulent on the inside. One of the little bowls was a chickpea curry; the second yielded a small piece of a second kind of fish in a sharp, piquant gravy; and the curious lotus-pink liquid inside the third turned out to be a tangy kadi made from kokum, excellent as a digestive. The thick chutney, into which he dipped a piece of onion, was made of garlic. He mixed the rice and the gravy, and ate it with bites of fried fish, onion and chutney without even raising his eyes from the table once. After he had taken the edge off his hunger he slowed down and began to draw out the rest of his meal. Truly, what food one got in every little nook of Mumbai city! The throbbing in his temples went away, and the centre of his being seemed to shift from his head to his stomach. A wave of contentment slowly washed over his senses.