Setting: A calm, cool Friday evening in January, at Kandivli, a Western suburb of aamchi Mumbai. Shyambhai (try convincing Gujju in-laws to call the jamai by name!) was at the receiving end of goodwill, thanx to an impending trip away for a long time! Like every time, they offer "to take out" the entire family for dinner! Marry Gujju, Eat for Life, All Life!
"The Village", was the joint verdict, which met with total 'Ayes' from all present, including the better half. A lone 'No' by a staunch meat-eater even refused to leave even his own throat! So, like a bakra before Cyrus (or Bakrid), the Man goeth! The whole family packs into 2 ricks, Village-ward. (Did you say "Car"? Well, you haven't seen Kandivli West on a weekend then, in the area around the Raghuleela Mall!) If you haven't, here is a bit on it. It's the typical Mumbai Mall, with multiplex, mini skirts and bulging tummies, dyed hair, loud cellphones, blazing boards, zealous security whose expertise in English is restricted to No Sirr and, a hundred ricks threading between 50-odd cars waiting to enter the already full Parking lot! You get the picture, yes?!
Cut,to the entrance. 2 men (1 old, 1 acting young), 2 women (1 old, 1 certainly young!) and 2 kids (aged 4 and 5, but 'OLD' in maturity) make their way in, looking heavenward. No, it isn't the Gods, their destination is on First Floor! Painted signs on the sparkling floor announce the way, right upto the doors of The Village, lit with earthen diyas and looking definitely different. A hand written board displays the rates. Rs.275 per adult and 175 per so-called-kid! God, my heart missed a beat! All this for a veg dinner! Anyway, glad I was only receiving, I hit "follow" for the evening!
Enter Veggie Land: Cursing my luck, I stood glaring at the doorman. He smiled broadly and infectiously. I reduced my intensity. He asked for my hand, put a stamp in red, which of course, wasn't too clear against my skin tone! I entered veggie land with halting steps and ebbing appetite. But what greeted me was wider and bigger than even the doorman's smile! And more colourful than the bright red stamp. Hate turned to "Ok so far"!
What's There?: What strikes you right away is the vibrant energy and colourful decor of the place - as equal to a village fest as it can get, in the mad midst of Mumbai's suburbs. Dim lighting, wall paintings, camel and bullock statues, staff clad in village wear, a few lorries and auto rickshaws (all converted as playthings!), half a dozen food counters and a troupe of artistes under a decorated and lit banyan tree. Dolls hung from tree branches, coloured ribbons hung from the ceiling, kids hung out of lorry backs, people hung around at every nook and corner of the vast space, and good cheer hung all around in the air. My good human nature came to the fore, eclipsing boring thoughts of veggie food for the moment. The kids broke free, sans their footwear and were at their brattiest worst. But nobody seemed to mind. Nobody ever does, in villages, I had forgotten!
Khaana Khazaana: I set about with camera, determined to shoot even if I didnt taste! But the pani puris couldn't be missed. So I had two plates! But then, next to it was Sev Puri, Chaat and Pav Bhaji. They are not veg, for sure. Tore through a plate each of those too. Ah, the Gujju counter had some yummy and warm dhoklas, which I loved! And the Rajastani and Punjabi corner had some semi spicy curries, which did taste alright wth hot tandoori rotis! Reminded of photography, I clicked away. A discovery now, to share with you. Photography makes you hungry, did you know that?! So, I stopped at the kebab stall and had a plate of potato as well as mushroom grilled. While I turned the corner, I bumped into a man walking with a heavy tray of chaas, jal jeera and ganne ka ras. I felt sorry for the man under load, and shared some of the weight with him. The glasses were small, so I had to gulp two of each. But then, I detected traces of dosa fragrance in the ambient air. Turning around like Karam Chand, I half jutted my long nose into the two bowls of chutney - red and white, for contrast. Ah, plain dosa, and crisp as The Hindu! Ek ho jaye? Ho Gaya! But then, idlis would feel bad, at the Mallu being partial to only the slender kind. So I devoured a couple of the fat-in-the-middle white ladies from the hot boxes. Seeing the look on the face of the dosaman (for me, he was/is more important than Super, Bat and Shaktimen all together), I chatted up. Detecting an eager talker, I pressed 'record' on the Nikon. Thankful for his moment of fame, he offered me another plain ole slender! How could I refuse one who toiled so hard? A nod in assent was mandated.
By then, I remembered my paternal and spousal roles and sought out my wife and kid. Glad to see they were enjoying their own, I trudged, heavy (with satisfaction at so many photographs, of course!), towards family. Plonk, Plonk, my posterior and then my hands hit the cushioned charpoy. It was then I saw the rest (as in balance)!
The Other Side: The other spectacles were going on, meanwhile. The troupe was performing various kinds of dances to country/Bollywood music. A "doordarshan" (telescope, in English!) was attracting kids with 10 Rs notes. An astrologer looked temptingly at me, but I looked further, and saw a Tarrot card reader, a mehndi guy, a knick knack seller and even a tea vendor on a bicycle - bell and all! "No space for tea, Grow Up", I chided myself. And, settled for two scoops of ice cream and a gulab jamun, washed down by half a glass of Basundi and two spoons of Shrikhand! Was quite a filling dinner, I must say! But I thought they only served veg fare!
Some commotion seemed to happen nearby. Thinking it was a full man having tripped down, I peeped, to see the brats and the elders jostling for a dekho of the puppet show. God, adults! There were a couple of couples, one old and one young, who had visited on their Wedding Anniversary. The troupe took over, belting out so many old Hindi numbers that the "definite tea drinkers" just couldn't get off the dance floor for a good 20 minutes. They seemed to have had fun. At least, my photos felt so!
Moolah: It will cost you a 1000 INR, for a family of 4. But, what's more important? Bubbly kids feeling at home & wild for 4 hours, adults trying to beat them at it themselves, smiling faces, tired limbs & a stomach feeling like you ate an Elephant OR, a big, grand thousand-ka-Gandhi?
Ponder, all you want. But you will never ever regret visiting The Village. That's my kid's guarantee for you!
Bon Appetit, folks, not that you will need it there!
