<p class="bodytext">My wife and I often have food delivered to our home using popular online delivery platforms. The cuisine is flexible and depends on whether it is for lunch or dinner. Generally, Andhra meals are preferred for lunch and are also pocket-friendly. Near our place, there are several good options, with some sending banana leaves with the carrier.</p>.<p class="bodytext">At dinner, we tend to be quite adventurous and order cuisine from various geographies, with the caveat that it should be vegetarian.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Yesterday, our cook played hooky, so we needed to order lunch. While browsing through one of the delivery platforms, I came across a restaurant with an interesting-sounding name in Banashankari, south Bengaluru. The joint promised wholesome Malnad vegetarian cuisine. After ordering a few items, the platform told me to order something more for Rs 1 to avail a further 15% discount. Rather sweet of them, I thought (despite people like me making the promoters into billionaires). The lowest-priced item was the papad, which the prudent me ordered by paying an additional Rs 15.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The food arrived on time and was pretty decent for the price paid. Not being an origin-of-cuisine aficionado, I could not authenticate whether the food was authentic Malnad fare.</p>.<p class="bodytext">My wife and I opened all the foil packets containing the ordered dishes and transferred the items to various vessels. The last packet was a flat one that contained the papad. There it was, a rather scrawny-looking specimen with part of it missing. The shape resembled the map of Borneo.</p>.<p class="bodytext">My supposedly Hoysala bloodline and our tendency to be militant when there was injustice afoot came to the fore. I got onto the platform app and logged into the live chat. I had no idea whether I was conversing with a human or a bot. I was instructed to upload a photo of the said papad. I did as I was asked.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The human or bot offered me the princely amount of Rs 4 as compensation. I felt insulted. I gave out our lineage’s war cry of Hoy! Sala! And told the person (or bot) to keep the Rs 4 and “give me your boss’s contact details.” It was posted promptly.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I sent the boss an email with my complaint and attached the now-famous photo of the papad. I got a reply soon saying that he/she would examine my complaint and get back to me. The next day, I received another email saying that my evidence was proven valid and that I was acquitted without a stain on my character, or to that effect. My compensation was increased to Rs 7.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Case closed.</p>
<p class="bodytext">My wife and I often have food delivered to our home using popular online delivery platforms. The cuisine is flexible and depends on whether it is for lunch or dinner. Generally, Andhra meals are preferred for lunch and are also pocket-friendly. Near our place, there are several good options, with some sending banana leaves with the carrier.</p>.<p class="bodytext">At dinner, we tend to be quite adventurous and order cuisine from various geographies, with the caveat that it should be vegetarian.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Yesterday, our cook played hooky, so we needed to order lunch. While browsing through one of the delivery platforms, I came across a restaurant with an interesting-sounding name in Banashankari, south Bengaluru. The joint promised wholesome Malnad vegetarian cuisine. After ordering a few items, the platform told me to order something more for Rs 1 to avail a further 15% discount. Rather sweet of them, I thought (despite people like me making the promoters into billionaires). The lowest-priced item was the papad, which the prudent me ordered by paying an additional Rs 15.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The food arrived on time and was pretty decent for the price paid. Not being an origin-of-cuisine aficionado, I could not authenticate whether the food was authentic Malnad fare.</p>.<p class="bodytext">My wife and I opened all the foil packets containing the ordered dishes and transferred the items to various vessels. The last packet was a flat one that contained the papad. There it was, a rather scrawny-looking specimen with part of it missing. The shape resembled the map of Borneo.</p>.<p class="bodytext">My supposedly Hoysala bloodline and our tendency to be militant when there was injustice afoot came to the fore. I got onto the platform app and logged into the live chat. I had no idea whether I was conversing with a human or a bot. I was instructed to upload a photo of the said papad. I did as I was asked.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The human or bot offered me the princely amount of Rs 4 as compensation. I felt insulted. I gave out our lineage’s war cry of Hoy! Sala! And told the person (or bot) to keep the Rs 4 and “give me your boss’s contact details.” It was posted promptly.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I sent the boss an email with my complaint and attached the now-famous photo of the papad. I got a reply soon saying that he/she would examine my complaint and get back to me. The next day, I received another email saying that my evidence was proven valid and that I was acquitted without a stain on my character, or to that effect. My compensation was increased to Rs 7.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Case closed.</p>