Altaf’s Cafe

After a few minutes of walking past the sign, “Happy Vatta!” , the road ended. A narrow trail rose almost vertically up from where it ended while another branched off to some camping ground and forest. The synagogue could be seen on the upper slope. And some tea joints lined the road.

And that’s Vattakanal.

The hour long walk from Kodaikanal sure had made us hungry. So in spite of the panoramic view of Palani hills that unfolded as the clouds cleared, we were not in the mood of appreciating nature, just yet. See. Your mood is a direct reflection of the food you eat. Recall that Snicker’s ad? Yep, that one. An acute representation I would say.

So we needed to find food, first and foremost.

After a bit of loitering around, we found a narrow flight of steps leading down the slope to Altaf’s Cafe.

Well… not quite what I had imagined, from what I had read.

A small clearing out in the open, on the slope with logs to sit up on,a pizza oven and a bit of a garden around the space,that overlooks a stellar view of the mountains on the east. There was an indoor part as well, with tables made of log wood. And then the kitchen further indoor. A quaint little space,not to mention quiet.

Bagheera,with his silky black fur stirred from his nap, as I sipped my coffee gazing at the posters on the walls of the cafe.Well, they were in Hebrew. Literally Hebrew to me, but mother tongue of Rotem and his friends at the next table. They had just completed their mandatory service in the forces, and come to unwind in the Indian subcontinent. And Vattakanal is one of the hottest(no Pun here dude, it’s all cool) destinations on their trail. They rent out the cottages and homestays on the higher slopes and just “chill” for months. The good life!

Altaf had noticed the Israeli connection pretty early on, and decided his menu will have falafel and shakshoukas and baba ganoush, instead of the usual momos and maggi and stuff you get from hillside joints. And to be honest, it’s as close as Rotem will get to his own food, in the land of Dosas and Vadas.

Now, I’m no Levantine Cuisine connoisseur,so I asked Bhaskar to explain to us the items on the menu. Chill guy, this Bhaskar. And ten minutes later, this was served to us.

Shakshuka with Salad and Pita

 

Woah! That’s aesth… I’d already dipped the fresh pita into the humus and boy, it was good!

Then I tried the eggs with the labneh,the greens, bit of the fries, all while Bagheera maintained a posture on the next chair. The shakshuka I make at home, fades in contrast to this platter.

That evening I ordered the Chicken Schnitzel plate.It had been a long time since I had tasted new flavours and had a meal that met my appetite. The Chicken Fillet was perfectly cooked. With the condiments, humus and of course, the freshly made pita, it was complete. We also got pasta. The white sauce was really pretty authentic. Even while I’m writing this,almost a week later, I’m drooling. (lol,bhukkar me)

Chicken Schnitzel Platter

 

White Sauce Pasta

 

It’s true and really amazing how your mood can change after good food. As the night turned cooler I got another cup of coffee. (I’d decided by then, I’m taking some of this amazing stuff back home.)

 

 

Tried the chicken sandwich the next day for breakfast and it didn’t disappoint at all. Remarkable how the continental cuisine with its basic flavours and seasoning can satiate the taste buds just fine.

Chicken Sandwich

 

I won’t be inserting pictures of the cafe or the view, because that would ruin the whole anticipation factor for future tourists. But I’ll try my best to describe.

The cafe seems to be a scene out of a movie or a dream, or someone’s journal. With the lush green slopes and the mountain ranges at the horizon offering a breathtaking landscape view, this place just completes Vattakanal.  Often the clouds come in and enshroud the cafe in a misty blanket. You can literally see the millions of drops of water floating around in every direction. It’s almost an ethereal sight. Moments like these are rare, more so for us city folks.

It was the last day at Vattakanal for this young Israeli woman,and she spent most of it scribbling picturesque scenes of Altaf’s Cafe in her journal,while enjoying a cup of ginger-lemon-honey tea. Albeit, accompanied by the friendly German Shepherd of the cafe.

For most part of the morning the cafe sports a deserted look. The Israeli’s have a late brunch,thanks to late night campfires and music.I notice some less adventurous tourists of my kinfolk order paratha. (like what even bruh?) Even Bagheera and the mixed breed German Shepherd stare at them with a judgmental gaze. Come afternoon and people start drifting in. You can hear a multitude of languages, Tamil,Malayalam,Hindi, Telugu, English,Russian and of course Hebrew.  And only around evening,the whole cafe comes to life! You can hear the hustle in the kitchen, smell the fresh pita and the continental herbs and spices. One of the few places where you get WiFi connectivity after a day in the wild,detached from civilization, many can be seen video chatting with their friends and family back home, in another time zone. It really is a cosy and lively ambiance at night.

 

That night we tried the laffa bread with the schnitzel. Exquisite. Not even in the city cafes which serve Mediterranean Cuisine, I’d expect this level of quality and freshness.

At dinner that night, I asked Bhaskar, “Bhaiya ye Baba Ganoush kya hota hai?”

“Ye ek type of dish hai jo eggplant ko process karke tahini ke saath banaya jata hai. Pita ke saath bohot sahi rahega!”

“Ohh…Accha Accha Accha. Eggplant.Okay…aur ye kya hai Sachlav?”

“Salep.”

“Achcha Salep. Aur ye salep kaisa rahega dessert keliye?”

“Sachlav ek Isareli hot beverage hai,cinnamon aur coconut powder ke topping ke saath. Aap Banoffee Pie try kar lijiye na, accha rahega.”

(Me thinks,why what’s wrong with sachlav? I’ve had banoffee pies before).

“Nahi,ek sachlav hi de do aap.” 

Bhaskar gave a look which said, “Sure bro??”

I nodded.

“Aur Baba Ghanoush nahi chahiye?”

“Nahi rehne dijiye.”

 

See, this is sachlav or sahlep. An alternative to hot chocolate, this starch based cinnamon flavoured beverage was new to me. The new flavour can take some getting used to. And it was quite filling! It did take me a while to finish it. 

Naah,I don’t regret what I had ordered. Who does? 

After returning to Chennai, I searched up sachlev. 

A winter drink, it is often considered to be an aphrodisiac. Ha! And from the online recipe I went through, I reckon Altaf’s was quite authentic. It’s just a flavour that takes getting used to. Of course, that’s what I would say.

And Baba Ghanoush is their Bengan Ka Bharta. Good, didn’t order that.

Also ordering Chinese here is not advisable,because it’s not your mundane momo, maggi, noodles hillside cafe, duh! I did order Chicken noodles once and I wasn’t very happy.

When in Rome do as the Romans do. Order Pita, Hummus, Labneh, Mushrooms, Shakshuka and the sort. And Sachlev and Baba Ganoush? Maybe.

It’s almost customary to report to Altaf’s Cafe upon reaching Vattakanal, and having that last cup of coffee at the cafe, before leaving the hamlet. 

Altaf knows a thing or two about business that the other cafes don’t, at Vattakanal. He is professional and the kitchen is run quite brilliantly! Frankly I was surprised at how organized this quaint little hillside cafe was. The menu takes care of everything from meals to snacks, from beverages to desserts and even veg options! And they keep updating the menu. With the option of WiFi (in a place that’s cut off from civilization) and warm hospitality,service and great coffee, I’d say Vattakanal deserves a visit just for this place, if not anything else. Bagheera waits for you. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kovalam(Covelong) : One For The Stranded Souls

Being situated on the Eastern Coast of India, a number of beaches border Chennai. Needless to mention, most are mainstream tourist attraction points. So, the Marina Beach, Gandhi Beach are more of public parks than beaches. Bustling with tourist and hawkers, these are far from peaceful.

In stark contrast to these, you have the Covelong alongside the East Coast Road.

The Fishermen’s Enclave

 

Every time you reach a beach, the vast blue expanse mesmerizes you once again. At Kovalam, the sea is calm. Although pollution is at a minimum, the skyline of Chennai in the distance is a grim reminder of man’s never-ending quest for urbanization.

 

Perfect for a day trip, Kovalam Beach is a refreshing destination, just 40 Km South of Chennai. It’s a quaint fishing village that apparently does not intrigue one at first sight. But the presence of a dargah, a Catholic church  as well as a temple, are all evidences of Covelong being a part of Nawab of Arcot’s schemes, it’s tryst with the French settlement(Pondicherry is just 120 Km down the coastline) and Clive’s conquests.

 

Selvam Surf (Mobile : +91 7845605921 and +91 9600125250) offers catamaran rides and takes tourists out to the sea besides offering life jackets that allow one to take a dip for an hour or so, 3 Km from the coast.

Moments of Bliss!

They will charge about Rs 300 depending on the season and demand, but it’s quite worth it!

 

This is one of the only places on the East Coast where one can surf, thanks to the natural bend of the cove. Bay of Life Surf School and Surf Shop and Covelong Point Social Surf School.The latter also offers opportunities of shallow scuba diving, kayaking as well as paramotoring.

 

One simply does not visit Kovalam and not enjoy the sea food!

 

The way they keep the fish on display, marinated with spices, is quite enticing.

 

Back from the sea, we relished over a delicious chunk of Koduvai, while we waited for Akka to fry the Vanjiram. The shrimps at Rs 50 are a great bargain along with the crabs. And don’t miss the platter of Neythili!

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Veg and non veg pakodas, fruit juice sellers, bhajjis, steamed corn, cotton candy , ice cream stalls and everything, you have the entire lot there.Occasionally one may come across the fishermen preparing their lines or weaving the fishing nets. Fishing boats, which are quite colourful by the way, adorn the narrow beach.

But,erosion is a grave threat at Kovalam. At one point of time, Mangroves used to border this part of the coast. With whatever limited resources the Panchayat has, they have tried their best to deposit rocks and halt the process, but of course sponsors for mangrove plantation and awareness will only help the locals and ensure the livelihood of the fishermen. After all, it is solely because of them that this place is one of the best weekend getaways from Chennai.

 

Location :40 Km South of Chennai(Quite a nice drive down the East Coast Road!)

Options of Stay: Vivanta by Taj Fisherman’s Cove. Other hotels and resorts are also available.

 

Courtesy: Camera Courtesy Yuvraj Tyagi and thanks to Sahil Siddiqi for having faith in my ideas.

 

 

Confronting Vardah

12/12/2016

07:30
It was ominous since the early hours of the day itself with a gale and moderate rain. However, that could hardly suppress the enthusiasm and joy of a bunch of engineers heading home after their end semesters. Digaant’s father was at the Eastern Naval Command…So we got reports in real time about how bad it was going to be. Coupled with that we received texts that flights were cancelled. I was still unperturbed. Cause, voila, I had no flight. I was supposed to catch the Hyderabad Express and obviously… that possibly couldn’t be cancelled, it’s scheduled to depart in the evening.
9:00

Things started getting more worse. More flight cancellations. And nothing was shown about the trains on IRCTC or Indian Rail Enquiry, cause they are so prompt.

Vardah was about to confront us at noon. And then “it was supposed to weaken after landfall. ” So all this storm raging outside, was it the trailer ?

12 Noon.

This was the worst decision I was about to take till date. I booked an Uber and set out for the Chennai Central Station. By this time wind speeds had reached a new high and Trees all around the campus were broken, power supply in the hostel was cut off. And this was just the beginning.

There are many deadly combinations, but Chennai – Trichy Highway, torrential rain, and a cyclone is something that is deadly on a whole new level. The poor hatchback could barely accelerate against the wind. Pretty soon we saw flying signboards crashing into SUVs in front of us, while electric lines, railings and huge tree trunks blocking the way became a common thing that forced us to reroute every 5 minutes.

13:30

The cab owner called up the driver in the meantime and said, “Drop the passenger wherever you are and bring me my car back ASAP.” I literally begged the driver to not do that, which led to a deal involving higher cab charges. Now,  I was low on cash, we all are nowadays, thanks to no one. And yes,  though we use PayTM, at times PayTM doesn’t work,  because of no Internet connectivity.
Yes, the net connection as well as the network was badly hit. Even as we entered the city scenes of mass havoc and destruction greeted us, instilling fear in me. I had only one aim, “Reach the station, get shelter.”  To die by getting hit by an electric line or a tree tumbling on me is the last  thing I would want.

14:00

I reached the station. Cab charges, Rs 950. I entered the station to find total mayhem. Blackout. Power off. No PA system announcements, no display announcements, nothing. People from all strata’s of the society sitting together and praying. The mobile network was troubling, so I could barely update my parents.

I went ahead and sat at Platform 8 before a policeman asked me to go inside, which is when I heard a defeaning noise and realised a 10ft*8ft piece of asbestos flying towards me.

I could barely manage to run with my keyboard and backpacks containing all the semester’s luggage . I went inside the waiting room and met some folks from my college and huddled around them. The whole building was rattling and shaking.  Pieces of debris, false ceilings, tin sheds of the platforms were flying around like hell. And on top of that no power. The bathrooms were crowded and flooded. The line in front of the enquiry was huge. And you could see fear, fear of mortal harm on everyone’s face all around.

17:00

The ordeal was far from over. They started making announcements after 5pm.
“All Trains Cancelled.”
Outside the ferocious relentless Vardah was still raging.
So I had two options, either to wait at the station or take a bus to Hyderabad. Cause flights, well,  weren’t an option.
By the few disturbed calls that I managed to get through I informed my kinfolk back at Kolkata and Hyderabad to book a ticket for me. They couldn’t, thanks to the Internet failure. Somehow, after struggling for two more hours a ticket was booked.

18:30

Bus was to leave at 21:30 from Chennai Central. I heaved a sigh of relief thinking that I would be safe in just a matter of 3 hours if I manage to get on the bus. But the bus stop at Chennai Central soon informed me that all buses from Central are cancelled and I have to move to Koyembedu in the hope of a  bus.
Koyembedu was 12 Km away, and I had 2 hours to reach there and 600 rupees left in my wallet. Time wasn’t a factor. But cash was. PayTM or my card wasn’t of any use.
Autodrivers accepting meter fares is as unlikely as Trump being even remotely sane.
They were asking for 1000 bucks to take me to Koyembedu. It was their Raj. Their monopoly and we were completely at their mercy. I bargained. But 600 is what we settled for. So,  this left me with NIL cash.

19:30

I had expected Koyembedu to be a huge Bus Terminus where I would find shelter and security.
Nope. Hell no. As the downpour continued with all it’s might, I was dropped at a totally blacked out Koyembedu, with zero bucks in my pocket. I hadn’t had lunch or dinner, not even water. I was alone. Completely drenched. But I had to worry about other stuff, like finding the bus that would take me to Hyderabad. I was on the verge of a breakdown when they said that due to Internet failure they couldn’t confirm my booking before 22:00. They were giving priority to on spot bookings. Pay cash, book a spot in a bus of your choice.

With each minute I started freaking out more. I had no back up plan. No cash. Hotels around Koyembedu were filled. No phone network, no Internet. Battery at 23%.No cash. My last call to my family was at 19 30. I was waiting with all my luggage under a shed(or what remained of it) in pitch black darkness. At this point I was losing it pretty much.

But I hung on, being optimistic that they will ultimately confirm my online booking done by my cousin.

22:00

The joy and the sigh of relief I heaved when they finally confirmed it at 22 00,is something that will remain etched in my memory for a long time. I put my backpack and rucksack in the trunk beneath the bus. Put my phone to charge. Called up my family after getting network in the outskirts at about Nellore. And hugged my keyboard as I cuddled up in the semi sleeper and closed my eyes, while the bus sped on amidst gusty winds and torrential rain.

13/12/2016

08:30

Hyderabad.

Clear skies. Full Network. Net connection. Power supply.
Things never to be taken for granted.

P. S:I still didn’t have any news about my fellow mates. Most were still stuck at the Station, or Airport or the hostel.

Read more about Cyclone Vardah here.

P.P.S: I am a guy who loves adventures and enjoys the adrenaline rushes,but that day even I was shaken to a considerable extent.

Eastern Ghats-A Tryst With Tada

It had only been a month since we landed in this non descriptive locale, South of the Southernmost suburbs of Chennai, where this reputed private university is located.
And within a month only,  it got the better of us. And we desperately needed an escapade. Tada Waterfalls fitted the requisites perfectly.
I charted out the plan,  contacted people for details and information, so that the plan could be perfect to the T.

Tada is a small Village Town in the state of Andhra Pradesh. And the Tada Station is quite… picturesque.  Almost seems to be one of those scenes you see on a Calendar or back of a Notebook. After the train that got us there, left, we found ourselves surrounded by stark silence. Beyond the two broad gauge lines there were rows of jhaau trees and heaps of stone chips arranged in a way that would be aesthetically pleasing to someone with OCD. And further out one could see the vast expanse of Lake Pulicat,the second largest lagoon of the country. On the other side of the station, we could see the Eastern Ghats’ ranges, some 30 Kms away.

From the station, you have to board a diesel auto that transports you to the Forest Department Gate and,  further up hill to the starting point of the trail trek. And boy, the ride wasn’t pleasant, not the least, thanks to the beautifully motorable road. So, we got a taste of the terrain pretty soon. Rugged , rough, dry, hard red stony and loose rocks at some parts.
We had to maintain a tight schedule, so I was very specific that we make good time right from the start. Besides, the trail was really broad for the first few hundred meters. It ran along side a stream all the way to the top. So, the sound of water gushing through rocks created a bedlam of its own with background noise feat. The Crickets.
But yes, we halted now and then to check out the flora and fauna.

At a few turning points of the trail, we got a glimpse of the entire range, which painted a pretty grim picture along with the cumulonimbus clouds which had gathered.

Soon we reached the first check point of the trek, a Shiv Mandir. This serves as a good marker for first time trekkers who may lose the trail or who may choose to take a quick break. A few meters beyond this point is a mini dam(built upon the stream along which the trail was running) , which you may choose to  cross by swimming or by walking across an embankment. We chose the latter, for then, to make time. After crossing the dam,  the trail becomes much more narrow and is almost non-existent at places. The forest also becomes much more dense and the terrain, more rocky and precarious. After a point of time,  the trail disappeared and it involved only climbing upon boulders and jumping from rock to rock.
Soon enough we had to cross the same stream again. And this time we had to half wade through knee deep water and do something akin to trapeze acts on boulders. We got company at this time by a contingent of  our primate kinfolks. Always nice to see them.(Sarcasm intended) Given they don’t want a share of your eatables.

Anyway, with their animated company we ascended further, and the route took us through the bed of the stream.
Finally, we reached the final pool at the bottom of the main Waterfalls which seemed to just emerge out of the cliffs, with its origins unknown . We wanted to climb up further, but it proved impossible without proper climbing gear. Though by free hand climbing we went a little up from the pool and discovered something exotic.

A small cave. And water blurting out from all the sides of the cave walls like an extravagant jacuzzi. The water was cold. Damn cold. This was something we had never experienced before.We forgot all the worries of the world and just screamed out as loud as our lungs could afford. The walls of the cave echoed back our cries.

This memory will be imprinted in my brain for years to come, that’s for sure.

 

 

But mishaps couldn’t be far behind. And while crossing the pool with Sahil ‘s phone in one hand,  I lost my footing and the phone fell into the pool. And that was the end of it. End of any of my further ventures to capture the beauty of the place. But sometimes, memories are much better than photographs.

We sat with our legs dipped in the crystal clear water and were enthralled by the tiny fishes nibbling at our feet. After bathing at the pool of the main Waterfalls we decided to begin our decent. I don’t know why,  but the decent seemed a bit tough and more treacherous than the ascent. And also more time consuming.
When we reached the mini dam again, instead of crossing it like before via the embankment, we decided to go for a swim. The water was deeper here, in the dam than at the previous pool.

At this juncture, the weather turned. Dark and ominous clouds gathered and a strong wind began.  The whole ambiance was as if the end of the world was nigh, and there we were,  swimming in natural pools and streams amidst nature.

Bliss.

When the time came to bid goodbye to the terrain at, Tada Forest Gate,  we were not filled with regret, but we were content.
We arrived at the Tada Station (on the shared diesel auto)  in time. The station was peaceful as ever and beautiful too. And the setting was amazing. Everything was calm and quiet. The mountains still and grim in the distance on one side and the huge expanse of Lake Pulicat on the other side.
It was the calm before a storm. Luckily the storm started after we boarded the train back to Chennai.

Certain experiences leave an almost life altering impact on us and this was one of those.

I won’t ever forget this trek,made possible all by ourselves. The difficulty level was fairly easy to us, for the trek. Obviously, it was just a trail trek. Nevertheless, the experience enriched me. That night we had the best sleep we had had in a long time. Not because we were exhausted. But because we were happy and content beyond everything. A kind of satisfaction we would cherish and hold on to, to help us endure the difficult days of mundane life ahead.

Photographs clicked by Sahil ,Digaant,Abhilash (my group) and me.

P.S:This travelogue by Amar Shekhar helped me a lot. 😀 Amazing dude.

Letters

“Prithibi ta naki choto hote hote

Satellite ar cable-er hate

Drawing room a rakha boka baksho-te bondi …

Bhebe dekhecho ki,

Tara rao joto alok borsho duure, aro duure, Tumi ar ami

jai krome shorey shorey…”

 

 

 

In this age, where people are connected via modes of mobile communications, where” link ups” and “break ups” occur in a matter of days, calls are rare, and SnapChat and Tweets rule our modes of expression, I think we aren’t really connected. We are drifting apart from each other. Instant Messaging spelt the death knell or doom for a real conversation. And even the last voices faded out. Because few are good listeners.
Born into the millennium, I was already in an age where personal letters are obsolete. So,  Meghavi and I decided to try something. Write. And express.
She’s in some city that is 1700 Km from where I am. Our lives are radically different now, so we thought it would be nice if we could write letters to each other instead of going for the most obvious alternative, WhatsApp, to express ourselves. We were a tad bit busy to actually send physical letters, hence emails.I guess this is the exact reason why people choose to switch to electronic modes of communication. To just get the feel maybe,of letters we tried this.
And the following are the first four letters in our letter thread.
These might be mildly interesting, so I wanted to share them here. Grammar Nazis, ignore the errors, for these are personal letters.

Dacres Lane: The Streetfood Enclave

I had read about this place for the first time in the magazine “Kolkata On Wheels”(That is a great magazine by the way, do get a subscription if you are an adventure fanatic). This was a few years back, and at that time I did not have the time nor liberty to roam about and explore my city.

Now that I have both the time and liberty,  I decided to explore the most popular street food joints in Kolkata, namely Tiretti Bazaar, Fairlie Place and this, Dacres Lane, or Dacres Food Alley or Tiffin Gali(Lane). Often it has been described as the Mecca of Streetfood of Kolkata.

A short lane in the heart of Kolkata,and once a fashionable locality,it was named after Philip Milner Dacres, Collector of Kolkata in 1773 and afterwards a member of the Council.This lane was, for 200 years ,the eating grounds for Sailors from various countries.In the 19th century,especially after the British left , the tradition has been carried forward by the fiercely food loving Bengalis. Though spelt as D A C R E S, we found out after a little investigation that it is pronounced as “Deckers Lane” or even as “Dakarias Lane”(Non-Bengali accent I presume. And one even gave us directions to Dhakuria,which is a completely different locality in South Kolkata)

Get down at Chadni Chowk Metro Station and from there it is just a 7-8 minutes walk to “Deckers Lane”, or you can reach Lalit The Great Eastern and , the lane is just beside it,between Esplanade Row and Waterloo Street.I’d advise that you walk because there’s nothing like exploring the city on foot and this locality surely will intrigue you. The old buildings and the hawkers on the sidewalk with their various wares add a certain charm to the city.

Emerging from James Hicky Sarani, we were caught off guard by the food stalls lining either side of the narrow Tiffin Gali. And a canopy of tarpaulin sheets overhead. People were abuzz with their work, some cleaning the dishes, some serving the customers and some engaged in some serious cooking.

Truth be told, initially we were overwhelmed at the lunch hour rush. It was something like a streetfood market. And the clientage included predominantly office goers or traders who were a regular at the food hub. The prices are comfortably suited for the mediocre working class. And the menu?A myriad blend of cuisines. It included Loochi,Aloo-r Dum,Ghughni,Cholaar Daal,Bhaat Daal Maachbhaja,Kosha Mangsho,Momo, Chicken,Veg and Mixed Fried Rice and corresponding varieties of Hakka Noodles,Chilly Chicken,Schezwan Chicken and Manchurian Chicken,Tandoori Roti, Paneer dishes and Khichdi,Telebhaja and Papads. 

Lunch Time

A common man’s lunch!

Too young for the trade?

“Chilly chicken,hakka chow,Rooti Mangsho…Ki lagbey bolun!”

Hot Loochis waiting to be served with some delicious and spicy Aloo’r Dum.

What surprised me was that, many people were having a dish of Bread,Eggs and Tea at Lunch.

The lane wasn’t exactly “clean”. Because the used utensils were clattered along the food stalls waiting to be cleaned and reused. Seated in a line along one side of the lane on benches, people of various cultures and sects and ages were engaged in conversations of “pending projects”,”deadlines”,”affidavits and contracts and wills” and other office jargon and how the end of the month was near. All of a sudden realisation dawned upon me…how carefree I am right now, just like a Free Bird!(I love Lynyrd Skynyrd by the way! :D)It felt like, I was experiencing a side of Kolkata, the side that offered me a brush with reality.

 

 

As we passed the shops, they literally

called out to us,”Ei j Dada, eidike Rooti

Mangsho!!”,”Dada chilly chicken hakka chow,

bolun bolun…“

 

This beckoning did its intended work and we were more hungry than ever and yes, amazed too.

We had a hard time choosing our cuisine but ultimately we ordered a plate of Chilly Chicken and Tandoori Roti. I loved the quality of the Tandoori Roti, it was heavy and fresh and was worth Rs 3 each. The plate of Chilly Chicken(8 pieces,Rs 80) though, was average.(Read,”coated with the usual amount of cornflour”) We weren’t expecting Mainland China quality anyway.

We were asked to sit down, on the bench, and within 30 seconds we got a huge thaali with the Roti and Chilly Chicken.It was hot and the chicken was really spicy. I did regret the fact that I couldn’t taste the Loochi Alu’r Dum or for that matter any of the other cuisines.

While we devoured , we spotted a shop devoted entirely to lassi and other milk product related beverages. And, I am a Lassi aficionado. We ordered the one that cost 25 bucks and I was more than satisfied. It was much better than the Rs 40 Tasty Corner lassi, I had had the day before.(Tasty Corner is another amazing shop at Mandeville Gardens,specializing in Kachori and other sweetmeat snacks). It was served in a maati’r bhnaar(earthen vessel) by the Halwai’s son a lad who wouldn’t be more than thirteen years old. I wondered, had he been to a school? Or did he specialize in making sweetmeats like his father?Anyway, the lassi was pretty much amazing. So after your lunch, do, please do, check out this Lassi shop. You won’t be disappointed.

I had a chat with the local shop owners. I had read in the magazine that Tiffin Gali mainly served breakfast to office goers;there was nothing mentioned about the lunchtime rush. But I learnt that the trend had changed since the past two years, and I was lucky that I caught the lunchtime rush and thus had this enriching experience.

To end with, I’d highly recommend visiting Dacres Lane, if you are a streetfood lover or you just want to soak in Kolkata’s raw flavours. Not too hard on the pocket, this amazing gem of a place will surely enthrall you and you’ll fall in love with Kolkata all over again!

Rantings of an Idle Psyche

Last week my cell phone died. Yes, I’d like to put it like that. Died. And since then I’ve had more time to think and look around than ever before. It was only after the phone died, that I realized how much I had become attached to it. Checking every hour, for new notifications. And here I was all of a sudden, waking up, nothing beside my pillow to know the time or the date. Earlier I had likened the thought of having no internet connection to being alone on a tropical island. But even in those times, you had the options to text, to call or even to listen to music. And it’s hard for me to live without music. If no internet connection on a smartphone meant being stranded on an island, no smartphone means being stranded somewhere out of this solar system altogether. This constant need of being in touch, this is highly addictive. Alas, we realize  the value and worth of pretty much everything once they are gone.

So, initially these were pretty much my thoughts when my phone decided not to boot up, ever again. Gradually, it became normal. But, for me it was all the more hard I guess, because I’m a gadget freak.And to live without anything as such, was pretty tough. I got hold of the radio, two days after my phone crashed. And, oh boy, the first crackles when I switched it on filled me with sheer pleasure. And then music followed. Of course Bollywood and other regional songs. But it seemed like I was listening to music after ages.Mir with his “Hi Kolkata!”. Brilliant as always. And even with each song, be it Hindi Retro, or a Anupam number or a Papon song, memories came rushing back. It is really amazing how the violin in the bridge section really stirs up emotions and the notes literally hit you. Or Shubhayu Sen Majumdar’s Tumi Robe Nirobe on Esraj for that matter.

I went out for a morning walk. At the break of dawn I slipped out when everybody was asleep. And I think, being a resident of the outskirts of the city, I am lucky that I got to watch a whole lot of birds. There’s a long stretch of road by the canal that leads you straight to EM Bypass. I ventured out. I crossed EM Bypass and went to the New Garia side. There are a lot of water bodies here. Not bounded. And not used either by locals. Hence, totally unpolluted. I found this place not far from the main EM Bypass. A huge waterbody, with clear rippling water, divided by a long narrow pathway not more than 5 ft wide. I am not exactly brilliant when it comes to expressing myself with words and describing scenes, but this was exquisite. The narrow road ran all the way dividing the huge waterbody into two parts. Only a huge tree sprung  up midway from the pathway sheltering some kind of deity. I left the main road and walked down this narrow pathway. And found a place to sit,treacherously close to the water on one side of the pathway. Usually, I’d have likened the thought of having headphones plugged in and listening to my music. But since I did not even have a watch with me, I had to satisfy myself with the music in my head. The silence of daybreak was a symphony in it’s own way. From afar the faint sound of the vehicles speeding along could be heard albeit,though intermittent. Occasionally what disturbed the silence was the activities of the animals in the water. I don’t know what it was, but at times there would be a lot of bubbles and ripples,breaking the silence. Maybe some snake or fish. Different birds would fly by overhead. I failed to recognize the majority of them.As I looked up, I saw the first streaks of daylight creeping in through the thick blanket of clouds. The breeze was growing stronger. A storm perhaps?

I had plenty of time to think about everything. To organize my shit,in my head,as I walked back home. All the people I passed on the streets…familiar strangers.

But then everyone is masked, isn’t it?And before long you also start wearing a mask yourself, to mix with them.And you ultimately forget who you were.

“Chol rastay saji tram line…ar kobitay shuye couplet,

Aha uttap koto sundar…tui….thermometer -e maple…

Hiya tup tap,gianostal,mithe kuashay bheja astin…

Ami bhule jai kake chaitam ar tui kake bhalobashti.”