Through a quirk of circumstance I now find myself eating an idli-sambhar breakfast most days of the week and, after a month, I’m still not really fed up.
Which is what got me thinking, maybe I should let the anna out of the pseudo-western-urbane-Indian-Roman-Catholic in me. I am half South Indian.
My wife used to often refer to me as a Madrasi, with a certain amount of scorn. She is Goan.
Goans think they fell out of Vasco da Gama’s arse. And that it’s a good thing.
I trace my heritage back to a Pillay line from Tamil Nadu.
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