Many years ago, we ordered Pani Puri in Delhi’s Bengali Market. I felt that the savoury green liquid had something missing. And, there was a spicy little blast from the past.The only thing that made my school memories exceptional was the street hawkers. I have never tasted that kind of tamarind, juices, crackers, sweet potato and chana masala (peppery chickpeas) again.My mother used to give me ten rupees in the morning for a Coke or a Mirinda. She didn’t know of my day-end escapades.The van uncle used to wait for us at the gate.