Monday, February 22, 2016

Yours Whimsically – Part 3: Of malls and restaurants

The first mall opened in Bengaluru – Bangalore it was, back then – when I was in Class 4 or 5. My dad being a bit laidback and the mall being out of the comfort zone of places we frequented, it would have taken me years had it not been for my uncle, to first visit it. The sheer enormity of the place and the variety it housed held the Class 5 kid in wonder. The next day, in school, I “casually” mentioned it in a conversation with my friends. I had been waiting to see that expression of awe and childish jealousy on their faces and I was not disappointed.  Going to the only mall in the city was a status symbol and having achieved it in Class 5 was no mean feat. During lunch, I told them about all that I had seen in the mall, not without adding the creative inputs I was capable of back then! In a bid to appear knowledgeable, I interspersed the narrative with tidbits of information I had overheard during the conversation between my uncle and aunt. One of my friends added his inputs and both of us nodded wisely, without either of us comprehending what was being said. The rest of the group looked at us with amazement and placed the two of us on a higher pedestal – for that moment. We had had our moment in the sun! [I was bought a t-shirt. A red, round-collared t-shirt, I remember. Here is the weird bit – that shirt seemed to grow with me! It was bought in Class 5 and it served me till 9 or 10, god knows how!]

Years passed. Malls, fancy restaurants & eateries, McDs and CCDs began to dot the landscape of Bengaluru. My tryst with fancy restaurants began in P.U College (the equivalent of 11th – 12th). It was the time when ‘exploring’ new restaurants became the trend and ‘trying out new cuisines’ became the catchphrase. The group I was part of was keen on experimenting – Italian this time, Chinese the next and what not. (I totally appreciate their spirit!) Much as I would be amazed with the ambiance at each of these different restaurants, the menu full of fancy names would still mean naught! At those times, I would let others take the initiative and would (un)willingly be part of the ‘experiment’. I must say, though, that I seem to have caught on a bit of their ‘spirit of experimentation’ now. Being a vegetarian, I try to ‘experiment’ within the limited choice I have everytime we friends go out to eat. I have failed sometimes, quite disastrously even, much to my embarrassment!

We decided to celebrate one of our friends’ birthday in CCD. That was the first time I ever visited one. [Until then, it was my perception that only couples went to CCD. Since I didn’t have a girlfriend, it was out of bounds!] After having ceremoniously cut the cake and sharing a few clichéd ‘birthday jokes’ (selfies weren’t in vogue then!), it was time to place orders. I went with my friends to the counter with much swag. On looking at the menu, however, I fell silent. One, the items were overpriced. Two, I didn’t know what the difference was between an espresso and a cappuccino, not to mention the other items on the menu which made no sense! All I knew until then was coffee – “strong” and “light” being the only variants. Not wanting to make myself a fool in front of the few girls who were part of the celebrations, I stood there appearing to be studiously looking at the menu. Frankly, all I did was to listen very carefully to what my friends were ordering (they always seem to have more experience than me in these matters) and then place the same order, just playing around with the language a little bit (has been my strength always!) so that it didn’t appear like I had memorized their order. Some months later when I saw the movie ‘English Vinglish’, I was totally able to relate to the scene where Sridevi messes up while placing an order at a café.

Over the years, I have been to several fancy restaurants and quite often, situations like the ones I have just talked about have been replayed. I fail to understand the fuss over the ‘type of bread’ (what does it even mean?!) and ‘toppings’. I still cannot differentiate between a latte and a cappuccino. At some restaurants, I have even heard questions of ‘still’ and ‘sparkling’ water. I doubt if even those serving know the difference! Luckily, I have always had friends and other experienced people around to bail me out of such situations.

No. I do not hold anything against these fancy restaurants. In fact, I enjoy eating at these places. However, I find more joy in eating bhel puri or gol-gappa by the road than eating a 6-inch bread layered with stuff I hear for the first time at the counter! To me, telling the vendor if I want more spice or less spice is closer home than choosing ‘vegetables’ and ‘sauces’ that would go with my bread.

Visiting malls is now commonplace and no longer a status symbol. However, I find it more comfortable to go to shops in the bazaar close to my locality to buy clothes than to a fancy mall to buy ‘brands’. I find the bazaar more natural than the shine & gloss of the mall and I am referring to the people, not shops, in the two different settings! It is more fun to see people bargain over their purchase than to see them pay by card without a word.

One of the first things I do everytime I go back home is to go on a walk around the bazaar, listening to the crowds and taking in the sights. It gives me a kick of its own kind. Maybe I am attaching too much romance to such ‘old school’ settings. Maybe, it is just the way I am. 

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