Adhi Potoba

On my visit back to Pune, I noticed that Main Street in Camp looks nothing like the one I used to remember. Of course, when I still lived there, it bore no resemblance to the Main Street of when I was a little kid. There were a couple of stores I remember vividly. Toy Center, one would think, as the name suggests would be a Toy Shop. However pestonji logic dictated that the store be half pharmacy, a quarter electrical appliance store with some toys behind the counter. Thus the name. There were the usual Marzorin, Budhani, Wonderland and other Camp staples. One place, however, where they still don’t seem to get with the fact that it is 2008, is Monafood. The weirdly designed restaurant was divided into 3 levels from the street. The outermost served Softee ice cream. The next level in was the juice bar. And the third level in from the street was the actual restaurant. Complete with discoloured Formica tables and waiters who bring you your water in steel glasses with their fingers in it. ...

Whenever we had guests visiting us from out of town they had things they needed to do, places they had to visit and certain things they absolutely had to take back. One of these that came under all three categories was a visit to the Kayani Bakery on East Street in Camp. If you are a visitor to Pune and you return home without a bag containing a Kayani cake, a box of Shrewsbury biscuits and a bag of wine biscuits, it is safe to say you’d be in the doghouse for at least a week. The Kayani bakery has been a Pune landmark since it was established by brothers Hormuz and Khodayar Irani in 1955. The Shrewsbury biscuit, which is Kayani’s flagship product, is quite possibly the most delicious biscuit you will ever eat. Just opening the pink box to reveal the line of biscuits embossed with the KB logo is a near orgasmic experience. But dipping it in tea and eating is like an orgy in your mouth that will definitely take you there. A Kayani product will never fail to put you in a great mood. Aft...

They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day. In Pune, however, breakfast almost seems to be a second thought. It’s something you do between getting dressed for work or school and leaving the house. I for one have been brought up on a steady breakfast of Carbury’s drinking chocolate (the one that came in the blue tin) and Britannia Nice biscuits . (Hello diabetes!) Shoving the biscuits in my mouth and washing it down with chocolate milk hot enough to take the top layer off your gullet. All this mostly while the school bus would stand outside honking the horn and my mother, trying in vain, to ask the driver to wait just one more minute till her son got his shit together. Unfortunately, no matter how old you get or where you go in the world, breakfasts might change, but the chaotic morning scene remains the same. On the weekends however, we try to bring back some sanity to our lives and what better way to start than with a healthy, hearty sit-down breakfast. Ingredients 3 cu...

The Osho commune is the brainchild of "Rajneesh" Chandra Mohan Jain and self-proclaimed “Bhagwan”. The spectacular commune looks more like a spa or resort than a religious center complete with waterfalls, exotic flora and fauna and bold architecture. And the beautifully landscaped Osho Park created out of a swamp is just breathtaking. Bhagwan Rajneesh was infamous for his teachings as they encouraged communal sexual indulgence. Here’s a man who took the bumper sticker “Make love, not war” a bit too seriously and turned it into a religion. I for one totally support such thinking. Osho ashram has brought a lot of good things to Koregaon Park. The best thing to happen to Koregaon Park as a result of the ashram, however, is the German Bakery. Situated right on the entrance to Koregaon Park, it looks like a beach shack situated on a main road. Although from the name, you’d think they serve German snacks, it is still Pune city, and the menu is a mish-mash of anything goes. On m...

"Panchang, menu, arogya, dnyana,   Upayukta sahitya pratyeka paana." The radio ad for Kalanirnay promised more crap than 16 years in school can throw at you. Kalanirnay is a calendar that most Indian housewives cannot live without. It is published in 13 different languages and contains just as much useless information on the calendar side as it does on the back pages. The 3 sq inch space for each day includes information on solar and lunar cycles, any insignificant holiday that might fall on this day (complete with obscure illustrations) and most importantly for the three people who understand what it is, concise information on ‘Rahukal’. The backside of the month’s page is where the real fun stuff is. Redundant information relating to the month, including medical advice, puzzles, religious information, recipes and lessons in arts and crafts etc. printed in 7 point, blue type are what make up the backside. I have never visited a house in Pune without a Kalanirnay on the kitc...

Before the ‘spectacular’ express highway, the cheapest and most convenient way to make a Bombay-Pune journey was with a ride on the Deccan Queen . A 180 km journey that took anywhere between 3½ - 4 hours on a good day. The journey would actually begin way before the day of actual travel by a trip to a little place known as the booking office. A small self-standing structure in the middle of nowhere, where you were served by indifferent civil servants from behind rusty windows. Some of the things you were never served, however, were proper information, prompt service or, heaven forbid, a smile. The chances of you actually getting a reservation instead of being wait-listed were pretty slim. Even as you enter Pune Station through parking, it looks like a haphazard mess. As you arrive inside you see that the rails and platforms thrown together by some eager engineer who made the mistake of believing himself. 6:30 a.m. is probably the most bearable time to be there, as people who fell asl...

When I was in junior college, Pirangut (which is now almost in city limits) used to be a destination for day trips. En route, one could drive for miles of lush paddy fields and open land on both sides of the road, the monotony broken only by a lake, a river or the occasional small body of water. You would have to slow down sometimes as herds of sheep walked alongside the road, blocking most of it. Village folk sat under the shade of tamarind trees waiting for the greatest form of rural transportation—the S.T. bus, known to most of the junta as the Laal Dabba (red tin can). The road took you straight to the village of Mulshi, where the Mulshi dam is located. There is a village on the way named Disli. In Marathi, Disli means “I see it.” The reason it is so named is that as you take a turn to enter the limits of Disli, you can see the walls of the massive dam for the first time. Just before the village of Disli is the village of Pirangut and also the home of one my favourite joints, Bunin...