So while at one of these lemonade vendors, a tall, lanky, old, disheveled, goofy-looking, taliban clergy-like guy was trying to enquire something. His tone was too low to decode, which was irritating; but from the reactions of the vendor, one could make out that he was undecipherable - and irritating - either way. Being our conditioned social response, I engaged in their frivolous communication by doing hearty gestures, which made me seem accessible. Endearingly, the old man came close and opened with a couple of lines. I didn't get him; it was an alien language, not even Urdu. From his gestures, it seemed he was making fun of the vendor who was making fun of him in the first place. "सिर्फ हिंदी समझ आता है|", I chirped, and he made some sense of it and jovially backed away.
In the meanwhile two boys in their mid-teens also came by for the lemonade. Average built, a lean figure, nattily dressed, but their features were dazzling, and their skin as fair as it gets - can swear that had they been in my school, a majority of the guys would've graduated with an inferiority complex. Their speak was also beyond my understanding, but the vendor understood them. "Afghanis", he later mentioned - like they were nothing new to him. India must be a hot destination with the Pashto folks.
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