[ After years of watching the sparks fly from strikers and oils accidentally set alight, Yusuf is less interested in the lanterns than what he just saw walk past him. More accurately, what was in the hand of the person who just walked past him. Kebabs
You can bet that he sets out after the smell of grilled meat with the fervor of a woman looking for her lost child. He follows the faint charred smell (that Yusuf can, for once in this godforsaken city, say isn't
his fault) to a small stall with an already established line.
Even through the charred smell (really, the vendor should clean out the drippings or something...) Yusuf's mouth waters
as he takes his place in the line.
He's going to cry if the person who just walked by was carrying a paper cup of boondi laddoos