With a shadow of disappointment on my face, I was standing at the railway station in Hampi, waiting for an autorickshaw. The heritage town has a culture of renting autorickshaws for days together. It did not suit my pocket, as this was supposed to be a budget trip.
Anji stopped his three-wheeler near me with a broad, welcoming smile. He introduced himself to me, and said his name meant Hanumanji. I got into the autorickshaw, we chatted for a while, and I asked Anji to take me for breakfast. I insisted that he join me for the meal.
He finished it before me and left the table. I went to pay the bill and found out that he had paid his share, saying he could not take anything free.
