I had promised myself not to talk to strangers, or eat anything, or touch anything. I mean with teeming people at Delhi who knew who was carrying what! I cleared customs around midnight and as I was walking towards the Holiday Inn inside the airport- I suddenly heard someone call me from behind. Startled I looked back - and there he was- in a milky white jacket with a hint or orange and green - deliciously attractive! An invisible magnetic pull drew me towards him and as I stared shamelessly- a voice behind the glass said: "The chicken tikka pudina white bread sandwich for you maam?"

First when did I get dropped from a miss and get elevated (hmm ?) to a Maam! And second, what is it with me and food in India! Munching on a spicy sandwich at midnight I walked towards to hotel only to be waylaid by a sweet lassi stall! And just as I took my last sip - the rose Punjabi kulfi had my name written all over it. Carb counting, calorie counting, sugar counting - all sorts of counting be damed! Midnight at Delhi Airport was the stuff dreams are made of. Dreams of a street food -starved, nostalgia filled NRI woman that is willing to pay 400 bucks for a lassi that she last had at a streetside stall in Kamlanagar.