The Flute Player and the Pakoras
June 30, 2009
I have decided that the monsoon has arrived. Why not? There are storms every night now. A little shower every day.
It is no longer simply hot. With 75% humidity, it is unbearably hot and awfully sticky.
I go around Jaipur telling everyone that the monsoon has arrived, hoping, like the flute player of Hamelin, to be paid good cash for my extraordinary foretelling powers. Sadly, nobody cares. It’s not the monsoon, they say. It’s just a few storms.
Oh really I retort, gracefully playing my flute, and then why the sudden humidity peak?
Why, then, why am I craving pakoras, if not for the monsoon?
Now that shuts them up.
Pakoras are these deep fried snacks stuffed with all sorts of things, from spinach to onions. My favorites, however, are the cheese ones, paneer pakoras. Very greasy and highly addictive, they are usually served in the afternoon with hot hot chai. But they taste lovely with chilled beer too. In any case, you should feel a little sick afterwards. Means they were good. Not unlike Mac Donald’s.
Pakoras, for some reason, are a monsoon delicacy. Hence, my sudden craving for pakoras can only mean that the monsoon has arrived.
No, it can’t simply mean that I am a junk-foodie.
It’s the monsoon.
You do know what happened to those who upset the flute player of Hamelin, right?