Today as I was about to enter the office premises, there was an explainable flavor that permeated the air. Shops stood in straight lines that invited the IT crowd. The object of the invitation was a plate of idly & sambar. The invitees were men (mostly & there is nothing discriminating about it as there were no women around) logging in early working for corporate firms. Everyone having traveled through the city's heat and dust and traffic found solace at the white oval spheres (two precisely, as idlies are always sold in sets) served with sambar.
I had my share of it with a little red chutney by the side. The shop owner served without expression. It was his bread and butter but if only he knew how much we all valued his service. In a time packed tight schedule when everyone is caught up with work, he sets a scene for us to go there and relax a few minutes without having to worry about choosing what to eat. You go there, order 'a plate' and it is served. There is no risk of side effects and consequences.
For all those here in the land of idly sambar, there is no breakfast that could beat the magnanimity of this. I say this with an equal affection that I have for roti-sabji (I have to live most part of the year in the north). However, a humble admission of the fact that idly-sambar continues to remain an integral part of every man's life who is pursuing a job, a journey and ultimately a dream,
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