As Bombay housing societies have begun to have Delhi-style aspirations, they have begun to disallow so much: no bachelors, no living-in, no non-vegetarians. But also, no door-to-door vendors. I am not sure how I feel about the latter, as I am a little nervous of doorstep sellers but not for security reasons, as the building societies might claim.

It's not that I was scarred as a child or anything. Summer holiday mornings at my grandmom's building society were like a travelling corridor market. After regular purchases like the milk and pooja flowers had been delivered, the ad hoc purchases would start. The pao wala with the square bag of brun and naram pao first. Then the bhaji wali, would settle down in the corridor with her gigantic basket, bursting with shiny, purple brinjals, smug red tomatoes, naughty yellow lemons, perky green chillies, genial bunches of coriander, self-satisfied curry leaves.