Mechilpuram

The Kiosk There was a kiosk next to where I sat at the food court.  It offered Banana Avil Milk.  The kind of stall that looks inevitable inside a mall: a lit-up counter, an overhead TV running its commercial - where a bearded actor whipped up avil milk and handheld gifts - akin to Kinder Joy's, in a yellow egg for excited kids. The person at the counter had his phone out. No customers came while I watched. None left either. Visible in plain sight, with its distinctive yellow branding, standing upright, a glance and it's out of sight, as you make your way. And I thought: what actually holds this together? What does a person have to believe, or risk, to set something like this up? What are the costs? What are the targets? What happens to the founder, to the person at the counter, to the kiosk itself? Musings I kept eating, lazily people-watching. People moving in and out of frame. Somewhere between one bite and the next, I started thinking about how something like this actuall...

  It's really liberating to be alone in the midst of people; doing what I like . Reading, writing, solving Tinkle puzzles, reading my current paperback (Delhi: A Soliloquy), dressed in a lazy green shirt and grey shorts. I'm hogging up space on a barstool again. There seems to be only unoccupied barstools. Patrons come and leave as the interiors and each table and chair plays host. No one really gives a damn, I think. I take up my own sweet time - read, jot down, try to convey what I'm experiencing. Must've spent 45 minutes people watching - clients trying out BMW bikes next door, people with places to be. Around me, couples on dates, college friends catching up, while I'm engrossed in what the forgotten charm of Tinkle has to offer. Patrons came and left. Tables emptied and filled again. I was just another face that the café kept company. A baby at heart, who yearns for things that sound super normal to others. Soaking up the experience of being around people, with...