A part of staple diet during the weekend excursions to Vastrapur included hot cups of chai and Parle-G biscuits. This became even more vital during my prep leave which was spent in Ahmedabad instead of Bombay.
The chai-biscuit routine was part of a larger sloth programme. In the afternoons while I was studying, and tapping into the IIM library, Sri would sleep off, and wake up suddenly at 5 PM and claim that he needed chai IMMEDIATELY.
It was here that we met a lovely little dog who would hop and skip at the sight of Parle-G biscuits. We made a strange sight I suppose, perched on those up-turned tin cans, drinking chai from tiny plastic cups, and feeding biscuits to a dog.
Now, a diversion. :)
When my mother’s sister was very small (about two and a half feet tall perhaps) she couldn’t say the word biscuit (Biss-Ket) but would call them Biscondi (Bis-kon-dee). The name stuck, and to this date in the family, during very affectionate times one calls biscuits, Biscondis.
And so the little dog, was called Biscondi for it’s fondness for the biscuits. I hope some lazy IIM bugger gets off his or her ass and goes for tea, and feeds the dog still.
