After catching ae bus, then another from Mamallapurum to southern Chennai, I idled in alleyways; anything to avoid the roar of traffic on the main road.
When I’d first arrived in the noisy Tamil Nadu city, I’d eaten pani puri. There was one more snack I had to sample before I left, bhel puri. This was my first taste of street food because I didn’t want to catch the dreaded Delhi belly.
Would my stomach survive, I asked myself as I watched his unwashed hands chop up onion and tomato? Too bad anyway, I thought, because I couldn’t resist. Luckily, I still have a cast iron stomach.