Choti Si Baat...

  Disclaimer:- This post is not a review of this Amol Palekar movie. Which happens to be one of my favourites, btw. It however deals with a similar aspect of life.

  Claimer:- Too much fundae_putting for a very small issue. Excusus Maadimus.

  Location: A semi-posh hotel in the heart of Bengaluru. Woodlands a.k.a Woody’s it is called.

  So here I was, happily staying at this hotel [ albeit at company’s expense, but don’t ruin the moment ], which is supposedly famous in B’ lore for its breakfast. Not many star hotels can boast about that.

  Aha, if that’s not enough, there is one more USP to this place. At all the dining venues, this mallu-run hotel plays Carnatic Music to give that xtra aambience effects.                  Yes. Good-ol’ Classy stuff that sits well with most of the senior Tam folk who seem to form a majority of the customers here [ and with me as well - if you still didn’t get the point ].

  I think this must be an corollary/extension of that experimental research that, cows gave more milk when exposed to western classical music.

  In the mornings, they play Mandolin Shrinivas. The same CD every day. I still liked it.

  At dinner, for some weird reason, they play death-note Shehnai/saxophone. Morose funeral-ish stuff. I didn’t quite get the funda, but since the food was quite good, I didn’t bother much.

  Well, enough of bitti publicity. Back to core issues. Or the lack of it.

  So, one day at the breakfast, the hotel features the Southie menu filled with awesomeness, the Idlis, the Vadas, dosas…. and also some mandatory nuisances like the Upma [ a.k.a Uppittu. as if an alias changes the hideousness ]. And being a devout member of the caffeine cultus, I order a coffee as well. Wait, let me rephrase.

  A true-to-Bengaluru-tradition Cothasian fresh, piping hot, delicious cuppa coffee, with a frothy layer as a visual bonus.

  Ya, it was something like that. I’m a bit restrained with appraisals.

  It was of course sugar-free, to suit the oldies. So, I take the  semi-crystalline, semi-powdery sugar sachet, and pour it down. It made a small hole into that layer, sinking in slowly. Maybe I was already high in anticipation of the coffee, or maybe bengaluru’s   early-morning cold had excited my mind, in either case, this sight brought a smile to my face. I assume the classy people around me thought I was some downmarket crazy oaf. That is, if they hadn’t already thought of that, while I came to have the breakfast in my pair of jazzy bermudae.

  To me, however, it reminded of old cartoon characters. When they used to fall out of planes, or space, or anywhere else… Dropping through columns of white clouds, making appropriate look-alike cut-out holes in the process.

  Maybe I’m imagining a bit too much. “Much ado about nothing”- ing about a petty issue.

  Signing off with a recent chat with Akella. [ Expletives included ]

      Me : Hey, I found a house in Wilson Garden. Pretty neat. And near as well..

      Akella : So, when are you shifting to a proper house?

      Me : Wtf, this house is closeby, has a maid, and a TV as well.      You can’t get properer than that.

      Akella : No, I meant why are you staying in a Garden?

      Me : You Whore.

 

  Some people never change…

       And that is good…

            And that is all…