It was hot that day, hot as hell. I was walking back from an
interview.hadn't really gone well. I decided to walk instead of taking
the rick back to the station. It felt good, the hot sun on my neck,
walking on the dusty lanes of Shivaji Nagar. Walking alone.
When you are always with friends "hanging out" you tend to lose
yourself in the chatter, the gossip. But for a change, after a long
time, it was just me, all me, me along with me. It felt good.
I
started feeling hungry ( It was afternoon you see and I hadn't had
anything since the previous night). Being a city bred guy, the first
choice for food outdoors has always been a fast food place like Pizza
Hut or a McDonald's. I am not rich, but once in a while I could justify
it.
But just as I was getting into a rick, I saw a hand painted sign
with " Rudrakwww.sh Bhojanalaya" crudely printed on it. Gut sense told
me to take the chance and have a meal there. I could almost hear my mom
screaming at me for going to a roadside food outlet with its flies and
unhygienic food preparation techniques. But I just grinned as entered
the "shop" cum "restaurant".
You have all visited a restaurant where there is a manager
sitting right at the entrance on a chair invariably chewing a "paan"
(India) and handling large sums of money in front of him. The waiters,
dressed in their uniforms hurrying here and there carrying menu cards,
food plates, utensils and what not from the kitchen to the respective
tables. There is comfortable lighting and air conditioning along with
it the feel of being in a restaurant. The customers never talk to the
ones sitting besides them.
"Air conditioning" consisted of a single wall mounted
swinging fan,
whose swing had just about gone south perhaps 10 months ago. There were
a couple of tables with multiple chairs around them and people sitting
having their food, but instead of staring at the intricateness of their
respective plates' cracks, there was laughter and gossiping all around.
No sign of the manager or the waiter(s)! I walked further into the
dimly lit (pure coincidence I think!) place looking for some guidance
when a young guy, smartly dressed in formal shirt and trousers told me
to talk to the old guy sitting inside. I was greeted by a standard
maharashtrian kitchen with ajoba (grandfather in marathi) was busy
rolling puris while aaji (grandmother) was deep frying them. He asked
me, or rather shouted at me asking me my purpose to which I meekly
replied, that I was "hoping to have some lunch". He immediately toned
his voice down when aaji glared at him, and told me to take a seat in
the front of the establishment.
Even though the tables were crowded, the moment I was seen
standing looking lost, some people shifted to allow me to pick up a
chair and sit besides them. Within no time, the waiter, in this case
the smartly dressed guy brought me a plate with hot puris. A common
utensil held the dal and sabzi (currey and vegetable-potatoes) from
which I took as much as I required, and sat down to eat.
The food was not special, it was not spicy, there was no decoration, nor was it "out of the world"
No.
It was the homeliness of the place, the plainness that took me in,
impressed me, made me remember my moms food in that brief moment of
bliss. I was astounded to actually feel that such normal food had the
capability to make me feel content, something which may not be achieved
in those high class places with exotic sounding dishes.
I wont say that what I felt there would be felt by everyone going
there but after a long time, I congratulated myself for doing something
spontaneously. That I was rewarded by such an amazing experience
notwithstanding.
As I exited the BHOJANALAY, I had made a new friend in the waiter,
who was actually helping out since the hired help had not turned in
that day. He informed me that all types of people from the white collar
to the blue collar sat on the same table and drank from the same jug of
water, without any hesitation and this, he said, was the reason for the
place being different. A little far fetched I think, but still worth a
thought!
--
Close
well said. enjoyed.
Surin
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hi Mr. Harryer, Mr. Ddasl, Mr Pradeep and Ms Indu
Thank you all for your comments !
It seems that my interview generated more interest than the bhojanalay ;-)
anyways from the very outset, they had told me I did not have the required level of experience (I have none) for the job. So it was just a practice interview I'd say.
This place is in Shivaji Nagar of Pune.
Its on a bylane between Mangala theatre and JM road.
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Hi Ms Kalyanee
I think after the hustle of the fast world, almost everybody loves going to a place still slow enough to sit back in and relax, and I am glad to have discovered such a place in the very heart of Pune. These places are in a class of their own!
Hi Mr.Swarajya
the blog was never meant to be about the interview but it just served to show the kind of blue mood I was in before I discovered that place. Thats why the interview was mentioned in just one line. It had no significance in the turning out of the blog. If you now read the blog keeping in mind this specific theme, you will notice the whole crux of the blog ;-)
I would like to remind you that just because I liked the place does not mean you will too. But if you are still interested in visiting the place, I'll gladly let you know its address.
hi Ms Melody,
I congratulate you on using your common sense in a place which glorifies western culture without giving much thought to the subject matter at hand. Its time we should stop being copycats and build an identity of our own!
hi Mr. Sunkan and Ms Prema
Thank you very much for your views. I appreciate them. do keep visiting my site for more such stuff. I tried to keep the narration simple and flowing so that everyone who has had such an experience in the past can easily relate to it.
Thanks all
regards
Kaustubh "Kos"
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How often do we chance upon such a homely place in this fast wold..Hope you had had a nice pleasant experience..
regards..
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Hi Kaustubh,
Good one. My friends and I once made it to a three star restaurant and ordered Masala Dosas. The order arrived, but with knives and fork in company. We were startled; we looked over to see other people trying their skills to eat masala dosas with a knife and fork. Then I decided I'm going to enjoy the masala dosa the traditional way. I dropped the knife and fork and started to eat with my fingers. My friends followed suit. It was much easier to relish the dosa minus the pretentiousness.
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