| The Nasik Vadapav |
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The local trains in mumbai were abuzz with their 10x amount of people fitted down in their tiny compartments. The flies were sampling the various foods available for the public and may be buzzing in approval.The vultures were hovering around the air trying to find some unlucky passenger killed by his proton emitting strengh failing against the ever ressuliant Indian Railways, May be an Iron man from India can work his way up against laloo and his minions.A typical traveler was happy drinking half a litre sugarcane juice for Rs.5 ( little does he know half of what he drinks is made up of a amorphous molecule we all cherish by the name of water). Far Far Far away from this laid a land called as nasik. Today I write on behalf of this land and my experiences with it in a name of A Pav Vada or vadapav ( its usually a food item containing a Paties and a bun or can be a bun dipped in some liquid we call as besan and eaten in the name of solitude with mirchi) in my series where I attempt to take over nasik Blog the keyword! Nasik was mostly in nostalgia , the people were nice and sweet, the shopkeepers lazy and the shutters of their shops even lazier to the sound of the keys penetrating through their holes they had one impending sound when opening.. gada gada gada gada ........ So on and so on... The Watergod had failed to impressed the frogs so they shouted in discontent over the arising number of their brethren being destroyed by the sun.May be over some lucky bastard frog who got turned into a prince after being touched by a lipstick used by a girl or something.The rickshaws were on the peak as it was morning time and the children had to be rushed to their schools.So half an hour of their ooos and aaas and finally reached the School. My school was just 500 metres from my home.So going by bus and rickshaw was not a formidable choice considering the amount of monies you could save with the combination I preferred called as walking or as the locals says " One two One Two ". A typical day used to begin with me brushing the teeth ( Sometimes i dont brush at all) and leaving for school earlier than even the peon himself I used to love my school. A typical Oil Paint recently painted on my Alma mater said its name in red, Sacred Heart Convent High School.There used to be a short cut to the school which led throguh swamps and snakes and trees of Bor ( its a Indian fruit with a bit of flesh on the outside and one large seed inside).It also lead through Open Gutters used by the people who lived in slums down there.Till I was 15 I used to see their faces every morning and Every afternoon while I walked and walked as if I was destined for walking. There I met the Pav Vada, He has huge in size compared to a bread sandwich. it had a yellow Structure magnificently composed by a human being and had bits of Kothamir ( Dont know the english version) latking to it.I always hasted to taste the various food items of the aborigines who used to live there and distribute this lucrative food for some new version of a barter system called as money. One day while I was returning from school came the sounds from the snake pipe pulling me towards this sinned man made creation.I lusted for it and I paid the price. The food melted in my mouth ( Frankly a hell lot of synecdoche there it didnt melt but the over amount of oil melted).I tasted it as if I was tasting my girlfriend.The food had a profound effect on me like a effect of wet cement after it been rained by stones thrown by the local boys.I ate it as fast as i could and I Paid the lady 5 Rupees for this peace of Bread made like Cleopatra the Seventh Not the Fourth ha Cleopatra the Seventh! ( Who cares and who knows why did they differ and by the way whose cleaopatra?).This continued till the end of my school days. I was not sad then that I had to depart from this wonderful bounty called as vadapav. nasik had many of its brethren made in many local shops so my hopes were alive. I left never to be seen again in those parts of the land ! A few days ago I was walking down the same path with a friend of mine, he had to take his intake of gutka , We went to the same shop I was totally not recognizable, The lady yellled at top of her voice on seeing me and told her customers who were seated saying this was the same boy who used to eat at my shop. I was taken aback by her active persuit in labeling me as a Pav Vada eater but i acknowledged her happiness on seeing me, 4 years ago I was a kid who used to go to school today something else but for her I remain the same old me! The conclusion my puny brain charted out of this predicament was that even though situations change, if you fall on a wet cement with your Ass then the impression of your ass wont leave that place! nasik Blog here we come! Other Related Articles
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