Bandra Station (E)

Meerut Haleem and Biryani. Not a review — it's a mental note. I might have been able to stand, with effort. I could even have shoved my way through the river of flesh on whose far bank perched three hulking bhartans of slowly liquefying mutton. (Red meat improves x-ray vision, studies show.) But asking the sigdiwala to cancel my order once he'd already thrown on the skewers just wasn't in the cards.

Boti, then. At three for Rs 20, there was no point in asking too many questions. I did not learn what kept them that scandalous shade of red. I did know one thing: for the aches and sweat stains of a full day of outdoor errands I had found a cure, and it was meat. Let's hope this ajnabee is here to stay.

Where? Past the platforms, on the far side of the foot-over bridge, where a solitary track threads its way up to Bandra Terminus. The iron picket along one side and the low wall on the other both have their occasional chinks, but the great mass of travelers flows through this one crossing. Somehow, they manage to close the gate once an evening when a solitary engine sulks its way out of the shed. At those times human traffic flows through foot-wide apertures on either side. Literally, through the wringer.

A Hyderabadi once told me that eating animal parts are good for our respective (counter)parts: gurda helps the kidneys function; paya strengthens the bones, etc. To have been spat out of this flattening machine to the smell of charcoal and the sight of these juicy chunks of mutton leg, I believed him.