Bangalore has a "Darshini" or a "Thela" (cart) on every corner. I decided to survive purely on Street Food for 24 hours. No Restaurants. No Zomato. No Home Cooking. Just whatever is being cooked on the side of the road in a giant iron vessel.
> BREAKFAST: 08:00 AM
The Sambar was piping hot. The hygiene looked suspect (the guy dipped his thumb in the chutney), but the heat kills the bacteria, right? Feeling: Energized. Ready to conquer the world. Indian breakfast is elite.
> LUNCH: 01:30 PM
This was a mistake. Masala Puri is not a meal; it is a bio-weapon. The "Gobi" (Cauliflower) wasn't cauliflower; it was fried batter with a suggestion of vegetable. Feeling: Heavy. The "Gobi Coma" set in immediately. I needed a nap on the pavement.
> DINNER: 08:00 PM
How much butter is too much? The chef used a block the size of a brick. It was delicious, but I could feel my arteries stiffening in real-time. I washed it down with a "Badam Milk" that was mostly yellow sugar water.
> THE AFTERMATH (HEALTH ANALYSIS)
Gut Integrity: 40% (Danger Zone)
Total Spent: ₹240
Comparable Restaurant Cost: ₹1,500+
Savings: ₹1,260
Medical Costs (Projected): ₹5,000
> CONCLUSION
Street food is an emotion. It brings people together. Rich CEOs and college students stand next to each other eating the same ₹40 Idli. It is the great equalizer. But physically? Once a week is fine. Every day is a death wish. I am eating boiled vegetables tomorrow.