His business was slow.
His ‘sev puri’ wasn’t that great.
The regular, popular ‘chaat’ vendor was back from his 3 month leave.
But I’d developed a keen sense of loyalty with him.
And he watched, as I dissed the other for him everyday.
Until one day, among the 10 rupee notes he gave me, I noticed a note, burnt by a cigarette butt, well hidden in that bundle.
His smile disguised his intentions.
That evening, I slyly passed on that note to a cab driver.
And the cycle continued.