Author: manuscrypts

  • Shillonging Day 1 – 4 states

    To protest against people being unwillingly sent back to the north east, we decided to willingly go there. Actually, we had booked the tickets quite a while back. 🙂 It had been a while since “Gang talk” happened, and since D seemed to be acquiring the taste from Zingron, we thought now was as good a time as any to go Shillonging!

    Early we woke – 3.45ish – to catch the cab at 4.15 and reach the airport in time for the 6.40 AM flight to Kolkata. 6E is known to be punctual to a fault and we had no intention of taking any risks. We arrived early enough and true to form, the flight took off right on time. Kolkata airport was exactly as we remembered it, but then 2 years is hardly time enough for that phenomenon to change! We thankfully didn’t have long to wait since the connecting flight to Guwahati was just a couple of hours away. Breakfast was at Subway! Kolkata is not the kind of airport that gives you a wide array of choices, so you can probably stop smirking now!

    We had been informed by the tour operators that a person would be at the Guwahati airport to collect the balance amount, and with him we would find our driver, Ajmal. We saw a person carrying a placard with D’s name. In just 5 minutes, we were able to establish, with the help of a passerby, that D was indeed the D he was waiting for, and in turn, he was reasonably sure he was Ajmal! Introductions done, we started our journey towards Shillong. From the massive bovine presence on the road, we figured out how Cowhati got its name! Lots of greenery dotted with brick kilns and markets. We seemed to have arrived just in time for one of their celebrations, which involved people trying to spit on moving vehicles, including our own. White cars were given preference – probably more points.

    The person who was supposed to meet us for the payment finally met us outside town, and wished us a pleasant journey after he counted the money. We stopped to fill petrol at a station that had its own complex patterns of how differently sized vehicles should exit. Just to spice it up a bit, they also used a larger board for smaller vehicles. But Ajmal was smarter by a league, and used the entry path to exit. Ha!   In fact he was so good that we didn’t even know that we had already crossed into Meghalaya. 4 states in about 6 hours. 2x Chetan. We stopped soon at the L.C Woodland Dhaba and dug into rotis and Chicken Butter Masala, which actually turned out to be quite tasty. My friend from previous travels – the splitting headache  -announced itself immediately after. Ajmal celebrated by playing Silsila. (Hindi, not Malayalam)

    We slept most of the way to Shillong, though we did wake up in time to catch the amazing scenery as we climbed. Though the journey is a 3 hr one, we took double that. Part of it was the last mile traffic jams in Shillong. That’s a story in itself! Once we crossed that hurdle, it was time for Ajmal to do his bit. Having no idea of where our hotel White Orchid was, he promptly took us to Orchid, parts of which were white in color. It was also the home of the village idiot who proclaimed that he had been living in Shillong since 1979 and there was no place named White Orchid. He played the same sentence in a loop until I said I could pay him to shut up. While he considered that, we called up the hotel. They were very helpful and gave Ajmal directions to get there. But Ajmal, whose IQ cannot be measured by petty human standards, rebelled against directions, and stopping near a petrol pump gave that as the landmark to the hotel people. The hotel staff said they would be there in a couple of minutes. In subsequent calls, he also created a fantasy world nearby which had a hospital and a bridge. I used Google Maps and urged Ajmal, but he silenced me with a glare that would have made internet watchdogs proud! Finally I made him move in the direction that Google gave me and voila, there was another petrol pump. Ajmal complained about what the world was coming to when a town could have two petrol pumps.

    White Orchid was a tiny guesthouse but we were given a warm welcome by Chetan Kumar (aka Chintu bhaiyya) who would prove to be a godsend many a time in the next few days. We skipped dining there and asked for directions to one of the many places on our list – Sesame in Laitumkhrah, just over a km away. We used the most common transit form – the Rs.10/head taxi, but just couldn’t find the place. We finally settled for Cafe Shillong.

    A cosy little cafe on the first floor, a few buildings after the famous Jadoh. We were the only customers though the only big table had a ‘Reserved’ sign. Tiny tables on the balcony gives you a good view of the street. From the not-so-elaborate menu, we asked for a Pork Momos with soup, and for the main course, a Shillong beef steak with mashed potato and a Chicken Bastenga. The soup was thin but flavorful and the momos, tasty, though not a match for the Delicacy ones in Bangalore. 🙂 The Shillong beef steak was well, a beef steak in Shillong, with a tangy sauce and well cooked meat. The local rice wasn’t available for the Bastenga, so they used white rice instead. It had a spicy chutney and a very strong bamboo+other shoots flavour and smell. To wash it down, we asked for a Hot Chocolate, a reasonable drink. The bill came to about Rs.700.

     

     

    We took the taxi back to Malki Point, home to White Orchid, and slept in a spartan room after watching Kung Fu Panda for a while. 🙂

  • Indian Summer

    Pratima Mitchell

    I must admit that in the beginning, this book reminded me a lot of Kiran Desai’s The Inheritance of Loss’. It was probably the Himalayan setting, grandparents, a young girl living among mostly older people and the presence of the ‘Liberation Front’ in the background. But its just a coincidence, as ‘Indian Summer’ veers away soon enough.

    Fourteen year old Sarla finds herself in the town of Daroga, with her grandparents, after her vacation plans go awry when her mother is pulled away on account of work. Though Sarla’s last trip was six years back, which ended with between her mother and grandparents, she adjusts soon enough and even manages to befriend Bina, the 15-year-old granddaughter of her grandparents’ household help.

    The author makes a smart move by bringing in both girls as narrators of the book and we’re able to juxtapose the similarities and differences between the two girls. They’re both lonely souls in their own ways, and yearning for a more ‘normal’ childhood, they both have a not-so-regular relationships with their respective mothers, but the sheer class difference makes each others’ lives almost incomprehensible. Their friendship however, helps Sarla understand more about Bina’s life and that of Bina’s mother, Shobharani, Bandit queen of the hills.

    Though the book covers some ground on the condition of the poor in villages, women’s rights, class differences, it takes backstage when the plot moves on. Despite an attempt at a twist in the tail, the predictability of the plot and the stereotype secondary characters – despite their potential, takes a bit away from this book. But I liked it for its simple telling and the vivid description of life in a hill town. The kind of book that goes with cold nights and hot chocolate.

  • Over The Top

    (first appeared in Bangalore Mirror)

    A list of new restaurants/lounges in Koramangala would be bottomless, and Over The Top Terrace Lounge is the latest addition. (yes, there’s valet parking) Two flights of stairs from Enigma on 100 feet Road (map) will take you to a wonderful open space, with wooden furniture and if you stretch your hand outside, you can even touch a tree. Yes, a real one, a rarity in these parts now. And in case you can’t handle such proximity to nature, there’s a closed section with some superb caricatures of rock legends as part of the topography. If that doesn’t please you either, you can get the best of both worlds in a section upstairs that has a different kind of wood – Holly and Bolly in the form of posters. It was pointed out to us that they were still hunting for Stallone from 25 years back. (in the movie that’s the restaurant’s namesake) There’s a pool table and quite a buzz in this area. The music is fantastic, mostly classic and alternate rock, and I hope they don’t fiddle much with it. They were operating on a sample menu when we visited, but now have an expanded version – quite an eclectic mix with Indian, Italian, Thai….

     I wondered if it was a hat tip to the name of the place that the menu was so ‘top heavy’- appetisers being a section that boasted of a relatively high number of choices. It is a melange of sorts, with various cuisines, and we started with the Five Spice Chilly. (chicken version) This also happened to be our favourite – just the right amount of spiciness and discernible flavours. The Surkh Laal Tikka was next, and though I liked it for its fieriness, my companions seemed to be slightly put off by the spice and the mustard tinge.

    The Baida Roti (mutton) was quite a favourite but the mint sauce could’ve been better. The Steamed Bao, a Chinese bread, that looks a bit like a pinch-zoomed momo, was an interesting dish. The base reminded us of a bun – texture and taste, but the filling seemed a bit over fried.

    The Buffalo Wings were too tangy and completely dominated the other flavours, quite disappointing, as was the bland Beer battered prawns, whose only hint of beer was in the menu literature. On the green side, it was mostly bad. Paneer was the only ‘vegetable’ in ‘Orange’ barring some peppers, and the dish was just sweet! The Pita bread in the Mezze platter was soft and fresh, but the dips – Hummus, Baba Ghanoush and Tatziki were insipid.

    The sample menu has less than ten options for the main course, but that seems to have changed now. They have pasta, Thai curries too. Since we had gone berserk with the starters, we decided to sample one dish each from the Indian and Burgers sections. Representing Burgers was the Burger Over The Top. There was much reason to hope – its description mentioned that it had lamb AND chicken. (yes, written that way) That indicated a ‘meating’ of minds. The presentation was no-frills but plenty of fries. The burger itself was probably the best dish of the night, with an excellent patty and mushrooms and cheese for company. The Indian section, which offered glorified versions of Makhani, Do Pyaza and such, was represented by the Raan Over The Top, which, according to the person who took the order, was worth the 45 minutes you’d have to wait for it. I’d say it was worth about 35 minutes, 5 minutes each cut for the rice that was too dry, and portions of the meat that were too chewy.

    But alas! One section of the menu continues to be in a deserted state. During our visit, the chef sympathised with our collective pain and was sweet enough to offer us ice cream. Serious ‘desserters’ that we were, we declined.

    The amazing Bangalore weather, coupled with an excellent playlist, ensured that we had a perfect ambiance for a meal under the stars. The service was friendly, though we had to specifically ask for the main course menu. The drinks, (currently outsourced to Enigma downstairs) is an area that requires work. For about Rs.1500, you could have a couple of cocktails, a non veg starter,  and a couple of main course dishes. (Inclusive of service charge and tax) At this point, you’d go there for the ambiance and the starters, but the setting is close to perfect and if the current menu manages to do even half a decent job,  (will check it out soon) then the proverbial sky is the limit for Over the Top.

     Over The Top, 2nd Floor, #2, 100 Feet Road, 5th Block, Koramangala Ph: 080- 25633899

  • A momentous truth

    Joydeep Roy Bhattacharya’s “The Storyteller of Marrakesh” is not among my favourites, mostly because it didn’t deliver what I look for in  a work of fiction. But I’m a fan of it for a different reason – there is prose in it that will haunt me for a long time.

    The book’s narrator begins the tale with the statement that there is no truth, because the moment it is revealed, it is transformed into one of many possible opinions. A few pages later, he says “Our imagination spins dreams; memory hides in them. Memory releases longing; the imagination waters the rivers with rain. They feed each other.“

    In terms of memory augmentation, despite the best documentation, I’ve felt many times that there are moments that have not been captured fully, or perhaps not captured enough at all. A presence that is felt, but cannot be captured. It is humbling to realise that acts which we lay importance to, moments which we considered precious, will be forgotten altogether or remembered in a different way from what actually happened, not just by others, but by us too.

    Much later in the book, a character shares a wonderful story, “This professor while addressing a large audience on the subject of beauty, asked that a piece of ambergris be passed from hand to hand until, by the time it reached the last person at the back of the massive hall, it had crumbled away to nothing. But the entire hall smelled of ambergris, and every person there had been touched by its essence. The professor concluded his lecture at that point, stating that he had nothing more to say on the nature of beauty.”

    ..of life, I would say. The smell of ambergris would drift between memory and imagination. If someone found words to describe it, it would exist in the imagination of the reader, but probably in a much different form than it actually was. The moment was the truth, everything else would be an opinion.

    until next time, truth be told…

  • The Catcher In The Rye

    JD Salinger

    Its perhaps a book that I should’ve read a decade and a half back, only because I could’ve related more then to the angst that permeates it. The timeframe and the narrative style would make the work seem small in scope – the book is set in about three days (not counting the recollections) and is told from the point of view of a teenage boy, who has just been expelled from his school (not for the first time) and instead of going home, spends the next few nights in a seedy hotel.
    But what makes this book unique is Holden Caulfield’s (the protagonist and narrator) way of distilling the thoughts and emotions of a teenager and making you feel for him. Indeed, there are many moments in the book that made me feel infinitely sad, though the ending seems to indicate that this is only a phase in life.
    The title is based on Holden’s mishearing of a poem by Robert Burns – Comin’ Through The Rye. Holden creates a fantasy on it – with himself being the guardian of kids who are playing in a rye field on the edge of a cliff, entrusted with the task of saving them if they are in danger of falling off.
    His attitude towards children – his sister Phoebe in specific, and adults would seem to indicate that he understands that at some point, kids will lose the qualities he likes them for (which are missing in adults) and he wants to be the heroic figure to prevent this from happening. A turning point in this role is his conversation with an English teacher of his – Mr.Antolini, who says that the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for a cause while an immature man would die nobly for it. Later Holden gives Phoebe his hunting hat, probably the symbol of his catcher identity.
    Its probably a book you need to be patient with (though its only about 190 pages) since (I felt) its only towards the end that Holden really manages to suck you into the idea of the book.