Indian fast foods and the North-South divide

During my first visit to Bangalore in the seventies, I was compelled to have curd rice packed in paper bags at the roadside eateries. In those days, non-vegetarian dishes were taboo in Bangalore and its surroundings. Today, it is not so - practically all hotels and restaurants in the Garden City cater to non-vegetarian customers.
One reason is believed to be the Karnataka Express train that started in 1987 and runs from New Delhi to Bangalore – by virtue of this northern connection, the entry of north Indian business and its cuisine into the garden city was a smooth and, practically, a silent un-noticed makeover.
Then came the IT industry and with it came hordes of young people from all corners of the country, some of them had come from the USA. Thus, Bangalore became known as the Silicon Valley of India and, once a pure vegetarian city, gradually transformed itself into a multi cuisine one with outlets of KFC, McDonald’s, and Dominos springing up overnight.
The southern versions of fast foods are idli, dosa, uthappam, urid wada and upma – these are just a few names that have become popular in practically every corner of India, Bengalis relish them as much as the Punjabis do. Cutting into a three inch diameter rawa idli with a generous topping of cashew nuts and a spoonful of pure ghee gradually vanishing into its innumerable pores is an experience by itself.
The urid wada (spongy, like the soya bean doughnuts I had once tasted in an American exhibition in Calcutta in the fifties) comes in two versions – one, the dry type and the other with an accompanying concoction called sambhar in which tiny bits of pumpkin, onion, tomato, drumstick and brinjal float in a gravy of pulse and tamarind juice garnished with ground coconut.
In the north, the vote invariably goes to chats, golguppas, moong-ki-halwa and different types of pakoras. I specially remember the pakoras made of cauliflower. Large chunks of cauliflower would be dipped in a batter of besan and deep fried in a really large container.
If you tasted one, you would certainly long for another – kya kare, control nehi hota!
Moong-ki-halwa is another favorite of the north – if prepared with an abundance of ghee and garnished with cashew nuts and kish-mish, it converts into a dish fit only for the Kings. I had the pleasure of tasting the delicacy in a roadside stall in Delhi in the seventies and the taste still lingers on in my palate. Similar is the case with the chana-batura – this is dish patronized by the north and I was pleasantly surprised to discover it on the menu-card of Kamat Hotel in Bangalore!
Unfortunately, when I was there in Bangalore in 2010, I discovered that the Kamat Hotel in the Majestic area has vanished and made way for an outlet of KFC.

Travelers stranded at Manmad when waterlogging stopped trains to Mumbai

I was once a mute witness to what happens to travelers when trains stop running all of a sudden. It leaves the passengers stranded and miseries keep piling up because such incidents take a heavy toll on those affected – if he is loaded with money, he can find solutions easily but not others.
It was all about the vagaries if Nature where Man is helpless.
We are used to the vagaries of Nature. There have been instances when boulders dislodge, come rolling down the mountainside and crush the railway bogies – cutting many a journey short. It had happened with the Karanataka Express and, more recently, with the Konkan railway. Whenever we travel by train to Bangalore, we revel in the breathy taking scenario all around – the mountains standing majestically with boulders of all shapes and sizes. Some of the boulders rest on the ground – boulders of huge size which once nestled in some crevice is today in peace with the world, lying on a flat surface!!
Until a few years back, I used to travel to Bangalore practically once a year to have a darshan of Lord Balaji. There are a number of routes to reach Tirupathi and the Thirumala mountains, the abode of the Lord. I always preferred to go via Bangalore by taking one of the package tours. Sometimes I went alone, sometimes with my family and relatives. And, every time, we took in some of the other sights in and around Bangalore. In all I must have made twenty odd trips out of which twelve were continuous annual rituals. With the blessings of the Lord, I was able to perform the objective of visiting Balaji for twelve continuous years in the second week of June. I never fell sick, I never encountered disruption in traffic, I never faced any hurdle. The first package was of forty rupees, the last was around four hundred rupees!
This is not about Balaji darshan but about the pitiable state people find themselves in when the unexpected happens. I am reminded of an essay I wrote when in school – ‘the charm of the unexpected’. In real life, the unexpected does not always carry with it any charm. Experience has it that when one is in the last leg of his journey, he relaxes weaving dreams of meeting his near and dear ones on alighting from the train exchange pleasantries, having some snacks and moving towards the comfort of his home. If, suddenly, he realizes that with five odd hours remaining to reach his destination, the train grinds to a halt and is unable to budge, what does he do? He would have, in all probability, be tearing his hair because he would have exhausted all his money. Any eatables that he might have been carrying would, also, have been finished. He would be at the mercy of the elements. To meet the needs of his basic survival, he would have to sell off his wrist watch or some such valuable.
That is just the situation I witnessed at Manmad station that day.
There was heavy water logging of tracks leading to Bombay and, hence, all trains en-route were halted at intermediate stations.
I was going to Bangalore for my annual ritual and, luckily for me, the Karnataka Express arriving from Delhi was not affected. But the conditions of the stranded passengers were something I will never forget.
People were lying on the platform and, inside the waiting rooms with lost expressions on their faces. Normally used to a cushy life style, some of them were at their wits end. The enterprising ones had managed to book rooms in local hotels and lodges by paying exorbitant rates. Some of them took taxis, at a premium, to complete the remaining part of their journeys. Those who were unable to exercise any of these options just occupied the stations waiting for services to normalize.