After completing my primary school I joined this secondary school in 1959 in 5th standard. Everyday I walked to school but on Saturday (Half day) I went from my school directly to my Maternal Uncle’s Home at Babulnath. The distance being far I was given ½ Anna for bus. Generally I walked and used ½ Anna for pani-puri later.
I acquired a friend from 6th std. who was staying near my Maternal Uncles Home. Let’s call him P. P was fat, very fond of eating and of telling jokes, studying was his last priority. He was somewhat crafty too.
One Saturday, as we both walked back home (to Babulnath), P suddenly felt hungry on Opera House bridge. I categorically told him that I have spent by Bus Money in school canteen, and now having none. P himself had no money but thought that I was lying. He told me not to worry since he (P) is having money. His intention was that once cornered I will pay for both in the Hotel.
We entered Café Ideal at Chowpatty. It was a typical old Irani Hotel. Round Marble Tables with four wooden chairs surrounding it. It is in the shape of Pie, the kitchen at the corner, two entrances at curve and cashier in-between two entrances.
On the counter, , wearing rounded glasses, sat a fat Irani, EveningNews in front of him and occasionally casting a benevolent glance at the empty tables. Behind him peeping through a big frame was “His Majesty the Shahenshah of Iran” in Magnificent Military Attire, grimly (and dis-approvingly) looking at his subjects – the Irani Hoteliers.
A lanky waiter appeared before us instantly, and P ordered a potato wada.
Wada nahi Omlette pav milega, ye Irani hotel hai!
As we were finishing Omlette Pav, P felt like gobbling down Samosas too.
Do you have money for Samosa P asked me?
I don’t have any, I told you before entering the Hotel.
P became pensive- I thought I have, but it seems my pockets are empty! Anyway you pay today, I will give you tomorrow.
I don’t have any – me.
Then what to do now? I asked.
P – Lets run!
They will catch us – I
P- How can the fat Irani run? Yes but the waiter may run behind us!
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Brain-storming for a few seconds!
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P- I shall ask the waiter to bring tea, as soon as he goes in the kitchen you run through left exit and I will run through right exit. But till we reach counter we have to walk as if nothing has happened and once outside run!
I – done!
I once again looked at the Irani at the counter; he was still looking benevolent, had no inkling of impending doom……….was fully absorbed in reading politics.
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The plan was successfully carried out, and I ran for a kilometer till my house, without looking back even once.
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50 Years later, the Café Ideal is there, Modernized and enlarged, I am there; P is no more, the fat benevolent Irani is replaced by fat, young but not-so-benevolent Irani. The Shahenshah has not only left throne but has left walls of Café Ideal too, and his place is occupied by Zaratushtra, who has the misfortune to see all beer-drinkers spread in the Café.
