Paapri-chaat

Growing up in Delhi we counted the paapri-chaat-waalah at the UPSC bus stop, along with the Qutub Minar and the Red fort, as a main tourist attraction of the city. We knew that he came in the morning to his small but extremely popular chaat stall in his own car. This was a time when only the very rich had cars and we did not need any other evidence to prove to us his wealth and fame. This is the story of how we once fooled the paapri-chaat-waalah into giving us free paapri-chaats.
 

We were going back home from school, Arun Nair and Ranjan and I when Ranjan suddenly said, 'Lets have some paapri-chaat. My treat!' Oh yes! Didn't everyone in the world want to eat this paapri-chaat. This is what Arun Nair and I saw as we waited expectantly:

Ranjan (in the middle of the pushing and shoving crowd): 'Bhaiyya! Mere teen plate nahin mile abhi tak!'
Fat paapri-chaat-waalah sahukaar: 'Paise?'
Ranjan: 'Arre, abhi tho diya aapko. Wo dekhiye woh waalah pachaas rupaiye ka note.'

The chaat-waalah looked at the note that Ranjan was pointing to and obviously could not tell the difference between it and the hundreds of other notes in his overflowing money box. Although he was suspicious, we got our three plates of chaat AND we got change back with which we bought even more chaat. Legitimately this time!

 

(Warning: The hero of the story was an expert at this kind of adventure. Try this only under adult supervision and at your own risk! We do not take responsibility for angry paapri-chaat-waalah's running after you with their fat paunches and their sharp or blunt instruments!)