Moving along
The mixture of smells from ghee slowly being heated and pungent wafts of mutton curry that drifted in and out of the waiting area was wondrous.
A Hindi pop number was blaring from the mini-compo hidden partially away from sight behind the prata counter. The high-pitched female voice was audible above the cacophonous symphony provided by the clanging spatula on wok as the mustachioed portly Indian man stir-fried his mee goreng and the low drone of passing traffic outside the shop.
The eatery was unassuming. No "air-con", no cushioned seats. The layers of peeling paint above the counter revealed the many change of ownership. The previous owner preferred duck egg blue over straw yellow. The present owner must have hoped that his choice of cream white will give the eatery a new breath of life.
The young man packing my "2 egg, 1 kosong" was mouthing the words of the song on the radio. "Mutton or fish?".
"Mutton."
"Tiga enam!" He shouted as I moved towards the cashier.
A Hindi pop number was blaring from the mini-compo hidden partially away from sight behind the prata counter. The high-pitched female voice was audible above the cacophonous symphony provided by the clanging spatula on wok as the mustachioed portly Indian man stir-fried his mee goreng and the low drone of passing traffic outside the shop.
The eatery was unassuming. No "air-con", no cushioned seats. The layers of peeling paint above the counter revealed the many change of ownership. The previous owner preferred duck egg blue over straw yellow. The present owner must have hoped that his choice of cream white will give the eatery a new breath of life.
The young man packing my "2 egg, 1 kosong" was mouthing the words of the song on the radio. "Mutton or fish?".
"Mutton."
"Tiga enam!" He shouted as I moved towards the cashier.
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