“Aye thu blady naansense”, I screeched into the unsuspecting ear of The Eyer, when he suggested we meet up at Lalbagh. “My fother will drive so far or what?” I said, picturing my journey-across-the-seven-seas for our much awaited meetup.
“Shut up now. Basavangudi is central, its you Malleswaram types that are in the burbs.” He said. Besides it’s walking distance for me”, he added helpfully.
“Ohoho, very close to you means what I must do. Trans Siberian Railway and all I cant catch and come to see your face ok.”
“Dude you didn’t volunteer to organize this, so thatsaaal means thatsaal, jhungachukka. You must only come to Lalbagh and meet us, I do not know anything. Besides, it’s your workplace anyway.”
“Ayeeeeee, how very dare you call me a gardener I say?”
“Err, because you are one?”
“Oh correct no? Ok, see you in half an hour.”
Unwittingly caught in the crossfire was our celebrity guest - Krish Attack, who magnanimously postponed his flight back to Chennai to hang out with us, after smashing his way through a maha funda presentation at IIMB. After some frantic calls to ascertain his whereabouts, we finally located him, suitcase in hand, appropriately clad for the
After a couple of “mad or what?” looks directed at the Eyer and I, who were busy clawing each other’s eyes out deciding which Lalbagh gate to enter, he cleared his throat. The Eyer and I stopped in mid claw and looked back at his rapidly reddening complexion.
“Err, I have seen Lalbagh before you know”, he ventured timidly, peeling off 7 layers of winterwear. “My parents took me there as a kid.”
“So, err.. what shall we do then?” said the Eyer, dismayed at his grandiose plans of a botanical tour of the gardens being dashed to the ground.
“Eh, lets eat”, we all said in chorus, and whirled the car around to our first stop in the gastronomic tour of “the place where the other people live” – Basavangudi.
First stop: New Modran Hotel. “Do not put leg on Chair. Do not wash hand in plate. Do not yodel. Do not sing mainstream Telugu film songs while chewing”, read the sign above where we sat, as we waited for the famous modran hotel thatte-idli to arrive. Meh. It was salright. Sorry Eyerboss. Veena shtore rules. Aaa nexxxxxt…
My smirkiness died a quick death however, when we stopped at our next venue: Shettr angdi (appojite New Modran Hotel). After making us chomp through an interestingish tamota-slice, The Eyer pulled out his trump card. He whispered into the Jabba-the-hut-like proprietor’s ear. Jabba guffawed, gave us the up-and-down, rubbed his palms together and went to work: on Shettrangdi Special Andre Speshhhhhal Butter Gulkand.
“Whaaaaaaaaaat?” I hear you loyal Bhagyalakshmi Butter Gulkand loving Malleswaramites scream? “How very dare you, Bikerdude”, you sob? Well sadly, Shettru has only one word to say to you. “Mwah.”
First came a gob of butter. Then a slather of gulkand. Then the mixed fruitu. Familiar enough, no? But no. That’s where Bhagyalakshmi stops and Shettrangdi starts. On went the murabba (murabba??? Yes) followed by nuts, candy, more fuits, chaat masala (No! Yeah? Yeah.) and finally a dollop of butterskaachu icecream!
Enoughaaaa? No. On the top of the butterskaachu went more chopped nuts and a glazed cherry. Whaaaaaataylovely!!!! Jabba handed it over with a flourish and 12 seconds later, fini! What a beauty I say! Sorry ma Bhagyaakshmi, you lose. Ok? ok.
Next stoppu: Subbamma angadi. While Attack stocked up on 564 packets of kodbale and chakli, I settled for the mind numbingly spicy masala vadey. Good stuff. Well done Subbamma, wherever you are, smiling down upon us with a plate of dynamite-nippat in hand.
With about minus 10 minutes to spare for Attack saar to catch his flight, we managed to teleport him straight into a vayu vajra, from where with his superior Web 2.0 skills he managed to re-program the check-in-lady’s brain to jettison him through an open cockpit window into the flight as it was taxiing off to Chennai.
So- um yeah. Basavangudi. Hmm. Some possibilities there I agree :)
Many thanks to Eyer saar for smiling stoically through all manner of abuses hurled. I am suitably impressed ok? ok.
Attack saar, kindly come nesht time I say. I will feed CTR benne masale and veena idly and you only decide.
And as for you Bhagyalakshmi, I have only one word to say:
PS: Aa yes, I'm back, hello. (famous last words)