Sandstorm In A Teacup

The worst thing about having Delhi Belly is that you have to restrict the foods you eat. So imagine my displeasure when taking the Shataabdi Express back to Delhi from Jaipur, and being given platter after platter of samosas, dhals, rotis, and other assorted foods that may or may not have been manna from the Gods, but certainly smelled like it.

I took one bite of the samosa before Shanaz reminded me that it would cause me a world of pain. Although I was reminded of the Delhi road sign that proclaimed “Today’s pain is tomorrow’s gain”, I chose not to mention it, and put the samosa down and spat out what I had taken. It was the best samosa in the world. Ever. Fact. It was probably made by the Hindu God of Samosas and rolled together on the thigh of Cameron Diaz. This samosa was delivered on a silver platter by the Hindu God of Tasty Food (to whom the Hindu God of Samosas reports, incidentally) and sprinkled with edible gold dust. I will never have a better, more beckoning samosa, but I could not touch it, as it would enter my stomach and be hastily shown the exit door:

“Hi, welcome to the stomach processing department. I’m afraid we’re closed today.”

“But I’ve been rolled on the thigh of Cameron Diaz and delivered on a silver platter by the Hindu God of Tasty Food himself!”

“Well that’s all well and good, Mr Samosa, but you can’t come in.”

“Dang. I’m really tasty, as well. Can I not just sit in the waiting room?”

“Nup, it’s also closed. The way out is over there. But you can leave your comments in the guest book if you like.”

“I can’t write. I’m a samosa.”

The dhal positively glistened with spicy tastiness, while the paneer in spicy sauce looked like little chunks of heaven. None of it, though, for my own consumption. I just stuck to munching on the roti and some plain rice, muttering to myself that India could be just so damned unfair sometimes.

Toilet no. 95 (I missed a few): The Shataabdi Express

It is here that I must issue my sincerest apologies to the Indian Railways authority. I am the one who did so much damage to your western-style toilet on the way back to Delhi, although I must admit that the chain was going to break at some point anyway. So, I’m sorry. I’d apologise to the other passengers, too, but they didn’t seem to notice.