Yum

Yum is a cup of tea from the Nescafe automatic vending machines in India. In Cardamom and Ginger flavors. Especially the one inside a decrepit plaza on Cathedral road. Tired from following Lavanya around as she shopped for clothes, the yelakka tea that the young boy filled into a plastic cup, turning the tap off with a stylish flourish was, well, yum.

Yum is Haagen Dazs Mango. Surely, a product from paradise. Cold Stone Creamery, you pale in comparison. But don't worry, not too pale.

Yum is the Sambar from Annapurna in Coimbatore. Matchless. Sorry Mom.

Yum is the Bhaingan Bhartha that Lavanya makes. Incomparable. Transcendent. And all this.

Yum is a Rahul Dravid on drive. Yummier was a wristy Azharuddin shot. But the match fixing left a bad taste in your mouth. Yummiest is a Sachin Tendulkar straight drive. And he knows it – watching him hold a pose after is a delight.

Yum is Mysore Pak by Mom. Krishna sweets can try all they want. Yum is also how she pronounces the letter M. I used to pronounce it Yum too, till Mrs. D'Souza told me otherwise in second grade. It was my mom's money that sent me to that school so that I could be snooty and correct her.