One good deed a day... Or should I?

And so it is. Lightning has struck twice. Every time I go out of my bleddy way to do a good deed, it blows up in my face in the most unbelievable manner. (Okay, not every time. But two big shockers is a lot.)

Let me hark back to my Mumbai days, where I lived for all of one month - December 2007. I was taking the morning train as usual from Andheri (home) to Lower Parel (near work digs). And more often than not, being one of the earlier stops, I'd get about 5 to 7 inches of seat space between corporate type ladies reading the Economic Times and college gals and other assortments, which I used up very gratefully. Lulled by the slow train into a semi-doze, I was whiling away the minutes and mentally preparing to claw my way out, visualising a way out as it were; this is probably the toughest part about riding on a Mumbai local.
Came a stop and a flood of women entered the compartment. As is the norm, with a lot of gentle nudging, tsk-ing, shoving, squashing of toes and other acceptable forms of Mumbai train etiquette, the ladies were arranging themselves in all the available gaps they could find. One lady established herself in front of me. I shifted back and assumed a ramrod straight posture to make more space available to both, the party of the first part: me, and the party of the second part: newly established lady. And that's when.... eeeks. My insides started an uncomfortable churning thing that had nothing to do with digestion. I began feeling extremely uncomfortable and not happy with myself. I felt I had to DO something. You see, the lady in front of me looked very preggers. She was youngish, not yet 30, with an otherwise slim bod except for her very cute protruding tummy. I estimated her to be at 6 months gone or so. And here I was, sitting pretty while a pregnant lady was balancing herself precariously using the rails and the hand-holding suspended thingamajigs that all trains have. Anyway. So.
Now by this time I'm getting increasingly antsy. You see, motherhood and pregnancy and all the beautiful miracles that come under that umbrella affect me very deeply. *sniff* (I would of course be equally ready to hand over my seat to elderly women, or frail, sickly, swoony anorexic types who suddenly couldn't breath, others injured/bleeding profusely or in a similar predicament, SO DON'T BE JUDGING ME!!!)
So now I'm thinking, "She's pregnant but how do I KNOW? What if she isn't? Won't she kill me if I'm wrong? But what if she IS pregnant? How dare you sit there with your young, fit, strong bod and let her stand by in her delicate state...?" And so on and so forth for about 5 dreadfully long minutes. (All this while I'm also checking her out scientifically to satisfy myself that yes, she is very much carrying another precious life inside of her.) Finally, I can't take it anymore. I steel my guts and prepare a face to meet her face etc. On the point of tipping over, since I've made up my mind to stand up and offer her my seat, I ask her (very casual, like so), "Hi. Are you pregnant?" And just as my toes are about to propel up the rest of me, she looks embarrassed and smiles sweetly and shakes her head and.... *sob! KILL ME! KILL ME!!!*, she says, "No." Aaarrrghhhhhhhh!!@@@#$#!!#!!!!!!!
Noooooooooooooo..... Don't be NICE to me, I want to screech. I am a horrid, horrid, nonsense person and I put you on the spot and made a fool of myself and you have every right to give me withering, dirty looks, but you just smiled and looked away as if it was your fault. Naaahiiiinnnnnn. That was not a good day for me. I felt like shit for at least a week after.

Moving on. Many months since.
Today's episode in the life of the Saab is another case in point. August 2008, Bangalore.

Had just finished fabulous lunch with the Insaneuptas and Co. at Nanking, Sigma Mall (aside: had the best crab ever... Overall meal experience gets 9 on 10) and was heading homewardly on my sputtering ride.
Reached the traffic junction down past HOSMAT, just before hitting the approach to the Army Quarters and Vivekanagar (you know, the junction one where the Mahindra service station is), and stopped at a red. A few other cars were stopped ahead of me, some waiting to turn left towards Airport Road, some right towards Lifestyle etc. I was calmly waiting to go 'On Straight On', like a true Cottonian. Suddenly, as is the wont near traffic signals in Bangalore, all the cars in the left-most lane started making a godawful racket, honking and cussing and gesturing at Car 1 waiting to take a left. The young man in the driver's seat of that Car 1 was being a doll and following the rules and staying put because the traffic light visible to him was showing red. But from a little behind where I was, the traffic light on the other side of the road(where he couldn't possibly see it) was signalling green for the left lane. Which is why everyone else was showering him with the choicest abuse and honking and pissing me off in the process. So, Heroine Sabbah decides to help everyone by going out of her way and putting the young man out of his misery. I vrrrooomed up confidently to him, snapped up my helmet visor and said cheerfully, "Hi, they're all making a racket because the traffic light's actually green. Back there." (Self pointing to traffic light behind.) Young man does not know what to do, he says, "But this light shows red." Advocate Sab persists with her case and says, "Yes, but it's probably faulty. These guys are honking at you because they can see the left is green. You can go. Cheers!" So he says, "Thanks," and takes off turning left..... and noooooooooooo....!!!!!!
Before my very eyes! A traffic cop with standard unhealthy paunch and half-asleep-obnoxious-expression emerges from the foliage on the left turn and stops him! He charges him with flouting the rules and breaking the law and all such things. I can only imagine the young man's confusion at what has just happened. With mouth agape I'm watching this unbelievably ridiculous turn of events. I'm still at the traffic lights waiting to go on straight on. But I can't take it anymore. I swerve off my route, take the left and stop next to the cop.
The young man is still stunned and looks quite emotionally wounded. And now the most unreal scene starts to unfold. Here I am trying to explain to the paunchy, inept cop that, "No, no, this guy was stopped at the red and everyone else was yelling at him to go, and the other light was showing green and he didn't want to go and he's innocent like anything and wait...! I TOLD HIM HE HAD TO GO," etc etc etc. Hah. Fat chance the cop registered anything. He looked at me with utter laziness and said, "You go, maydum." Nawwwwwww.....
I of course start apologising to young man and his wife/gal pal, and they smile sweetly at me and say, "No, not your fault," "This happens," etc. I try hanging out and explaining to the cop again, but he just totally disregards me and tells me to be on my way. Young sweet couple shrug and wave me a "No problem, you carry on," and me and my broken heart, feeling extremely guilty and stupid and very angry, make our way home (having to take a wide detour because I had turned left etc etc). And what really gets my goat is I'm sure there were folks in the cars behind Innocent Victim who had a good laugh at what happened to him on account of their nonsense. Sheesh.

So there.

That's what happens when I go looking for sawaab any which way I get it. Grrrowl. I'm mad. As in, pissed off with what happened.

One day at Graze

Accompanied the Insaneguptas for lunch one sunny Sunday. To salubriate [sic] Shro's happy birth anniversary a couple of days after the event. (Shro seen in pic on left with her papa, Pinaki.) In fact of point, the same Sunday following the all-nighter at Fireflies. It was tough waking up in Shro's Chamber of Death-Sleep only a few hours after we had crashed, esp after the previous night's revelries, but what the hey, we knew we had a good meal coming.
And what a meal!!! Va va vooom. For starters we went through the entire repertoire. Foie gras, oysters (with Asian sauce for me, with Bloody Marys for the rest of 'em), roast duck, and prawn tempura.
For the main course: lobster medallions for Shro's Gramma Deeds, grilled lobster for Pinaki, steaks for Aloka and Shro, and tiger prawns for me.

Here are the before-and-after pics of my lip-smacking tiger prawns, drizzled in olive oil, with cherry tomatoes and boiled asparagus and nice healthy greens for accompaniment.
Presented like so (Please note bottom of very clever two-in-one decanter for olive oil and vinegar above the plate):
Fifteen satisfying minutes later... BURP.
Must make mention of very impressive ginger and watermelon sorbet that we were served between the starters and main course. Fabulous. And I don't even like ginger.

The desserts... Rowr! Dark chocolate assiette, raspberry somesuch, crème brûlée, and I swear to God I don't remember what mine was except I loved it. It was a super fresh ice-cream accompanying a pudding thing with a berry underbelly. Here, have a look-see.Vaav. Whatte presentation.

Absolutely loved the polite, charming staff who served us during our meal. Granted there was hardly anyone else in the restaurant (what's with that?), but unlike the snooty and inefficient service one gets at the neighbouring Café Mozaic, this was lovely. The waiter serving us our drinks (fresh and refreshing fruity juices for Deeds and I, Sula wine for the rest of the lot) must have overheard us toasting Shro on her Happy Birthday. Quietly and without grinning meaningfully or otherwise making an ass of himself, he went backstage and started turning the wheels that work within the wheels. Superbly timed to mark the end of our dessert round, the staff nonchalantly wheeled in a rose-petalled trolley with a gorgeous chocolate cake and presented it to Shro with compliments from Graze. Awww... While we oohed and aaahed and cut the cake and stood around in a group looking busy, they took a pic and instantly framed and handed it over to us. Tears in our eyes and all that. So sweet.

So, in a word, if you have lots of money left over at the end of a week (or a year, if you earn like I do), head to Graze. Am very glad it won the 'Best European Restaurant' in Bangalore according to the Times Food Guide. Yes, it's steep. But it's also very worth it. Once a year.....

Mumbai: Life in a Metro

"The future is called 'perhaps', which is the only possible thing to call the future. And the only important thing is not to allow that to scare you."
~Tennessee Williams, Orpheus Descending, 1957

My trip to Mumbai has been a little life-changing, to put it lightly. Apart from the regular touristy stuff I pulled off when over there, I managed to fit in an interview and landed a job offer. After a couple of days of deep mental unrest and heavy brainstorming, I have decided to move bag, baggage, life and books from Bangalore to Mumbai.Meaning, I am leaving comfortable, tiny, traffic-jammed Bangalore and shifting base to new, intimidating, noisy, fast, big-ass Mumbai.

And now, about the trip itself. Which started the previous Thursday evening, after a harrowing, adventure-filled delay on Bangalore roads [read as horrendous, hair-tearing, inexplicable traffic jam] causing me to miss my flight and force me to purchase a brand new tickety-boo at the airport. Gaaak. The trip hadn't even begun and I was already down a cool 4k.
Anyway. Landed late-nightish at the airport where hostess of the year Shobhanaaaahahaaahaaa was awaiting my arrival. (She had her i-Pod for company so Indian Airlines/Mumbai Airport Authorities were spared her wrath at the landing delay.) During my stay in Mumbai, Shobs acted as a very professional local Raju-guide. She also graciously invited me to move in with her and her roomies [who are both also lovely ladies, and originally from JNC, Bangalore] once I leave Bangalore. This is, not to put too fine a a point upon it, a huge relief. Shobs was full to overflowing with useful advice, funny hair/clothes/Bombay-bimbette stories, amusing work-related anecdotes and personal tales of great intrigue and human-interest. I had much, much fun.
Other than that, spent lovely day catching up with Bones at her digs and loafing around her part of town. We went for Om Shanti Om and laughed our eyeballs out. Loved her apartment. Bones ordered in momos and we had a delicious midnight dinner over gossip and reminiscings. Brad Pitt was discussed in great detail. It has also been decided that in case of any unforeseen emergency or me going financially bust, Bones will have to step up to the plate and mother me till I'm all better.

Shro joined me after her Goa trip on Sunday evening as per precision pre-planning at Mocha, Bangalore. I collected her and we headed towards her mad, mad, mad,mad cousin Mithai's home. Had a great, fun evening, heavenly homemade dinner [salaad, chingdi-maach, masoor dal, mung-sho and bhaat], chatted long into the night and fell asleep happily at the end of it all.
The next day we had planned to hit downtown Mumbai. Dropped off some stuff at Shro's friend's place in the 'burbs, met her gorgeous, cute as hell boxers, and messed around with them for a while. That's the lady D with Shro on the left, and on the right we see her brother K looming in the foreground while she hogs the chewy-ball.

Shobs, Titla and I decided to rendezvous in Bandra, take the local and hit 'town'. This was the first time Titla travelled by local train and she looked like a kid in a candy store. It has to be admitted that there was much to amuse us on our journey, such as this fantastic advert for PRTTY BEAUTY PARLOUR on the wall of our carriage. The most promising service they seem to provide is probably the 'Full Body Blech'. I have take down their number and will be their most ardent patron once I move. Must also try their 'menicur' and 'pedicur'. Sounds like they are dog-lovers. Good.

Anyway, we reached Colaba, had a stopover at Café Mondegar [or 'Mondy's', as they say in Mumbai] and I am totally smitten by the place. Very Bangalore feel from the music, ambience and food. I shall be gong here a lot, inshaAllah.The rest of the evening was spent on heavy shopping along Colaba Causeway for knicks and knacks. When we were almost ready to drop, we decided to 'drop' in at the darling Theo Broma, a Parsi patisserie on the same street, and got some life back into our tired legs. We decided to wind up for the day and cabbed it back to the 'burbs.
Interesting aside: On Colaba Causeway, every evening around sunset, a kind man comes along with a bag full of meats and he distributes this among the waiting street cats AND dogs. Who, by the way, are totally unfazed by each other, never fight and live quietly side-by-side on the roads. It was beautiful to see. Neither species batted an eyelid nor made a sudden, homicidal lunge towards the other. The cats were especially blasé about the whole coexistence thing.
We spent some time post-sunset on breezy Marine Drive watching the hep middle-aged aunties in their micro-shorts and toned legs walking their dogs. Middle-aged hep uncles were power-walking with earphones and a look of earnest intent. Whatte fun.

I'll summarise the next few days now. It's getting bleddy boring.

So, after we were done with town, Shro and I covered the Bandra shopping hotspots [Linking Road, Hill Road, Pali Naaka]. We ate at some nice places like Pop Tate's, Just Around the Corner, 5 Spice and shamelessly crashed a very fancy beach-front lounge bar/restaurant called Aurus for a friend of a friend's Happy Birthday party. I spotted many celebrities, wannabe-celebrities, wannabe-seens and has-beens in only 5 days on the streets. Obviously there's more excitement on the way.
Before we knew it, it was time to leave. And I am back in comfortable, pleasantly cold, tiny, homely Bangalore to pack up my underwear bag and other essentials.

As to what the future holds, who knows. Let's play it by the ear. I trust the Upstairs to look out for me.

“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”

-Corrie Ten Boom

Stupid cricket match and a lovely cafe called BrewHaHa

First ODI between India and Pakistan at Guwahati, Nov 5th, 2007.
Match summary: "It was a tired, dull effort on a sluggish surface."
-Siddhartha Vaidyanathan on cricinfo.com

A yawn-inspiring match between the two teams that always promise excitement and drama when playing each other. Except it wasn't so at all yesterday.
India won deservedly as Pakistan handed the match over to the Indians in a super-slo-mo turn of events. The Paki bowling and fielding was so ho-hum I won't write about it. A couple of upsides: Salman Butt looks in good nick, as does Mohd Yousuf. Downsides: Too many to list in detail but the broad outlines may read as 'bowling' and 'fielding'. How many times will Mohd Yousuf try and save the day only to have the rest of the Greenie Meanies turn it into a shambles?
Am very disappointed in Shoaib Malik's captaincy or lack thereof. Maybe he was thinking about the Emergency situation back home? Probably not, but what the hell was he thinking of otherwise is my question.
More amusement was in store for all viewers as Afridi got out in yet another comical attempt at bludgeoning the ball. (You nutty Pathan, keep your panties on for a while, why don't you?) Afridi's full-stretch lunge from toe to extreme-tip-of-bat measured in at 57 feet, 8 inches. At least that was what it looked like. He missed the ball by a further 3'5" feet and the math becomes too depressing now to give a final cumulative of the asinine act. Oh, well, at least he didn't waste too many balls and livened things up a bit. 31 off 32 is a fun show.
On the Indian side, good bowling esp by the spinners. Sachin is a hero and a good man and both were on display yesterday. Couldn't contribute with the bat? No problem. He stepped in with his cute smile and a couple of important wickets. Stop dissing Sachin all the time, folks, really. And Sourav. There's a reason they're counted amongst the greats. And both showed it yesterday.
Dhoni is firmly entrenching himself in my heart of hearts as a really nice lad and a good cricketer. Consistency is not something to be sneered at. Yuvi did good again.
All in all, an infuriating day for me as I watched the ease with which India took the match away. Obviously batting in the middle orders wasn't too tough, Pakis, because India did just fine. Hmmmph.
Later on in the evening, as a salve on my wounds, I cleverly met up with a couple of my girlfriends who couldn't care less about the cricket. In this intelligent manner, I avoided being ridiculed for supporting Pakistan and also enjoyed thoroughly at a very nice cafe in Koramangala called Brew HaHa. (Right next to Jyoti Nivas College.)

Let me talk a bit about this joint. I give it 4.4 out of 5 thumbs up. I have been to Brew thrice already and have really enjoyed each time. The cafe was started by a couple of friends: one Mr Sreeram and one Mr Mansur. More about them here. The menu is great, the food is lovely, very budget place and an easy, fun ambience.
Brew-Ha-Ha is built around the concept of gaming and fun. (Which is to say indoor 'games', of the board kind and 'fun' of the clean, family atmosphere kind.) Games available include Scrabble, Coda, Cranium, Pictionary and over 60 other games most of which I hadn't heard of. The walls are also mounted with white board for added fun and creativity. Ask for the games menu and learn a few new things.
The cafe has ample seating: tables-and-chairs as well as floor-rug-seating in the corners with cushions/bolsters for your use and pleasure.
The place is boisterous and noisy during the day when college kids bunk and come away to enjoy a few innocent hours. On a weekday evening, it'll be quiet and pleasant.
The menu itself is very diverse, with a lot of choice available in terms of food as well as beverages. And very amusing names for many of the menu items, inspired by comic book or popular fiction.
Yesterday I had the Roast Chicken, Mayo and Apple Sandwich (with a special request to not add the apples in- yes, I can be like that) and the Willie Wonka Cappuccino [a dreamy mochachino - really excellent]. My friend had a Paneer Tikka Sandwich plus a Cappuccino and another friend the Oriental Stir Fried Noodles and a Lime Water. All of us concurred on these points: The food was excellent, the servings generous. Beverages were top-notch as well. Add to this the great pricing and we were a much-satisfied threesome.
Service was friendly and only a tiny bit slow, but this went unnoticed because we had a really good time in totum. The desserts look appealing as well. Their cheese cake is fantastic. Last time I was there I had a huge slab and packed another one to take home with me.
The next time I go to the cafe, I intend to try the Intergalactic Gargle Blaster. And maybe something from the pasta menu. I'm pretty confident I'll be happy with whatever I order. I have been reading random reviews of the place online and it's unanimous: everyone has enjoyed their food at Brew-Ha-Ha. Not a single unhappy critique.
My friends and I have decided we will patronise this joint like no one else. Here's to time and money well spent and the promise of a lot more of the same.

Highly recommend for a bit of old-school-memories fun. Go!

Ruthie!!!

A belated post about a fun girls' night out last week, bringing in Ruthie's[right] happy birthday. The night that was the 25th of September running into the 26th of September. Wheeee!
I had asked Ruth some time last week that I be allowed to take her out on a very hot date, and she acquiesced. Pinkah was soon a part of the dinner plans, and finally Sophia was inveigled in to make it a lovely quartet. The original plan was to rendezvous and stuff face at Shezan on Lavelle Road. [I won't say who suggested it. WE ALL KNOW. Hmmph. Let us just say that up to some point in the recent past, this used to be a nice, respectable restaurant to eat out in, which is why we agreed to go there in the first place.]
I collected Ruth from a pre-arranged scientific meeting point, and in the pleasant light drizzle, playing dhin-chak songs on the car stereo, we headed towards Shezan. Pinkah arrived shortly after, dressed to the nines, whatever that means.
No sooner were we seated than we realised that this is not the sort of shady joint we wanted to be celebrating Ruth's Coming to Life in. The table cloth was the same as I remembered from 1997 and that is not a good thing. There was only one other table occupied, the waiters were looking listless and the lighting was not conducive to out festive mood. Also, some trash music was playing and I cannot abide with bad music when I'm out to enjoy. All of us were individually thinking the same inward thought: "How can we get out of here and who will bell the cat?" (Though outwardly these may appear to be two separate, independent and unrelated thoughts, the use of the conjunction 'and' renders it one whole undivided unit.)
So, we tried to look casual and talked of the weather and laughed amusedly at the still-not-arrived Sophia's incoming texts about her deranged auto-ride and her ETA, but all the while the twiddling of out thumbs and the tapping of our feet intensified and the frowns on our foreheads deepened. To kill time (and not look cheap), we ordered a few Iced Teas and Onion Rings [for what is a night out if not initiated with deep-fried fresh-breathy-snacks]. The final straw for me, that famous one which broke the unfortunate camel's back, was tasting the so-called Onion Rings. Gaaaak!! They were terrible. Being unable to take this substandard turn of events any more, I thought I would scream aloud, "Let's GOOOOOO!!!" but was pre-empted from so doing by a simultaneous wail from Ruth and Pinkah. Obviously all of us had seen the light at the end of the tunnel and it was decided that we make good our escape from the shady Shezan as soon as possible. (We also vowed never to hide our feelings again and talk openly about things that were bothering us.)
As soon as Sophia arrived we left, and in our wake stood the offended waiters shaking their fists and cussing at us becuase we had not been too subtle about our disenchantment with the place, the lousy food and the desire to GET OUTTA HERE! I believe we also laughed loudly and disdainfully at many points.
Anywhooo.
Pre-departure, we four had decided that we would head to the very nice Cafe Fresco's on Cunningham Road. We all piled into my car and we drove there in high spirits and a flood of bad jokes. As soon as we turned in to the graveled calm of Fresco's parking lot, I knew it was good decision. Being a weeknight and slightly drizzly, there were no raging crowds or noisy teenybopper sorts milling around the place. Just a set of cheerful, comfortable, well-behaved dining folk, all enjoying their own personal enjoyments.We ordered the food, settled in pretty well on our table, enjoyed the gazebo ambience, the light rain, the toned down music and each other's company.The food was quite excellent. Starting with the hummus [ordered cleverly by Sophia] which was as authentic as any I've had, right up to Pinkah's Penne Pasta with Arabiatta Sauce ["A penne saved is a penne earned," I offered, when Pinkah couldn't finish her portion], Ruth's Chicken Parmesan and my Grilled Fish- all were very satisfying and also, delicious.And then........ the desserts!!!!! Now, anyone who knows anything about eating out in Bangalore will tell you that you get the best desserts at Rahila Rauf's patisserie. Where is this little piece of heaven to be found? Why, attached at the hip to Fresco's, which just happens to be her husband, Mr Rauf's joint! Wheeee....
So, to cut a long story short, Sophia and I quickly tippy-toed to Rahila's counter at the back and there we had the expected spasms and fits of unbridled joy that one is wont to exhibit when faced with her creations at a close range. We walked across each dessert with awe, and it must be said, rapidly-filling drool in our mouths. If it were not for the amused waiter standing by, I believe we would have stood and applauded each masterpiece with tears in our eyes.
As it was, it took us a good ten minutes to finally zero in on the two most desirable desserts for our table. We settled on the "Oreo Mud Pie" thingie [that may not be the correct name, but it had Oreos in it] and "New York, New York", which is cheese cake, New York style. The Oreo creation was fantastic! I don't even like dark chocolate but this particular dark-choc dessert was something else. The cheese cake ranked a close second but only because the chocolate was so damn good. *Standing ovation* for Madam Rauf.
It was unfortunately time to leave after that, and we decided that since there was still time for Ruth's birthday to arrive [about 15 minutes or so till midnight], we would drive along to Sophia's home on the wrong end of the edge of Bangalore and scream "Hap Birdday!" when the time was right.
And so it was. We took off in the car listening to fascinating item songs as Maiyya Maiyya, Ganpat, Cash and other contemporary gems of the Hindi fillum industry. By and by we came to midnight and we all yelled and shrieked and laughed "Happy Birthday to Ruthie". Amid much mirth, noise and inanity, Sophia disembarked at her home. The return journey then began and much to the disappointment of the remaining three of us, Sophia wasn't there to enjoy an absolutely fascinating item song called "Mummy", which beats the pants off every other song in history for sheer lyrical ad vocal genius.

Here are some lyrics, if you don't believe me:
Kehte hain sabhi ki badi haaat hoon main,
Tell you what, taqila ka ik shaaat hoon main [X2]
Magarrrr khayaaaal yeh rahe zaraaaaaaaaa....
Mummy ko nahin hai pata!!!
Naa, naa, mummmmy ko nahin hai pata!
So, Mummmmy se naaa kehnaaaaaaa........!

Haaaaaaaaaaaahhahahhaahhahahahaaa..... Happy birthday, Ruthie doll.

More pictures of that night, here. Unfortunately, I didn't take any shots of the desserts.