In the dimly lit room, I gathered my friends around, eager to share a chilling tale passed down from my grandfather. Before I recount his bone-chilling encounter, allow me to paint a picture of my dear grandfather—a joyful and talented man, skilled in music, capable of playing the flute, tabla, piano, and more. He was a maestro in dance, mastering the art of both Kathak and Bharatanatyam. Yet, amidst all his passions, one thing held a peculiar grip on his heart—fish. He couldn't bear a day without this aquatic delicacy; it had to accompany every meal, or he'd refuse to eat anything else. This eerie tale harks back some forty years, to a time when the world was a vastly different place. My grandfather resided in a quaint little village known as Kumta. In those days, the road leading to his home was a haunting path. No streetlights dared to pierce the darkness, and dense forests loomed ominously on either side. But things have changed drastically since then, as you'll soon se...
Tales from Grandma's Table: Nourishing Real Stories at a Time