Service that touches your soul

I usually take my meals at the TISCO Guest House in Jamshedpur where I am staying – they serve great food and more interestingly, there is a certain panache with which they do so. But this day was a little different – we had been out to Patamda, a remote block in East Singbhum district and it was nearly 3 p.m. by the time we made our way back to civilization. The Dining Hall timings are till 2 p.m. and I thought that I could do with a change from the usual offering of Continental cuisine. My driver assured me that he knew of a few good places near the Guest House itself, which are not too exorbitant, but dish out good food.

Off we went driving along roads and by-lanes, till I sighted this place – ANAND – A HOUSE FOR PURE, VEGETARIAN SOUTH INDIAN MEALS. A sudden bout of nostalgia, induced by my daily ritual of eating at my favourite Udupi joint near Colaba Apollo Bunder, gripped me. “It's time for some Dosa-Chutney” said by taste buds and I decided to oblige them. In we went; myself with my driver in tow.

Tables and chairs stacked in rows and columns – the place resembled my old Engineering hostel mess. The place seemed packed – I managed to catch hold of a passing waiter -

“Bhaiyya, table khali hoga kya?”

He manages a swift, sweeping glance of the full expanse and a wave of incredulity sweeps across his face. A stern rebuke follows -

“Table se kya matlab?? Chair to khali hai na.”

I can't deny that – I think of seeking a 2nd opinion from another waiter, but then decide otherwise – they all look the same and I can visualize the 2nd one speaking with the same conviction about the need to efficiently utilize space.

A set of 5 tables had been arranged in a row to look like a long bench on my left – 3 of the chairs were empty – I decide to sit down. The others who are using that bench-like table, are obviously in a big group and do not seem too pleased with my decision to infringe upon their space. I don't give a damn – I am famished.

No one seems to be appearing – I try to catch the attention of a few of the waiters, darting all around. No success. I almost grab the next guy who comes close –

"'Bhaiyya, Masala Dosa milega?”

I had decided to forgo the right to demand the menu card before I chose a dish.

“Main is table ka nahin hoon sir..'

- curtly said with the shrug of the shoulder. I wait – a menu card is whizzed across the table to me, much like one throws a flying saucer in the fields.

A look at the menu card rejuvenates me – my eyes are peering down on the longest list of assorted dosas that I have come across – all neatly lined up in order of hierarchy.

SADA DOSA Price
MASALA DOSA Price
ONION SADA DOSA Price
ONION MASALA DOSA Price
RAWA SADA DOSA Price
RAWA MASALA DOSA Price
RAWA O.S. DOSA Price

(The abbreviations come in – they make the most mundane sounding name interesting, if you like rolling around the acronyms in your mouth)
RAWA M.S. DOSA Price
................................ ..................
COCONUT R.M.S. DOSA Price

I like this – I decide to go for the ones with the longest acronyms. The waiter - my table's this time – has thankfully appeared -

“Bhaiyya, ek Coconut Rawa Masala Dosa (my rolling tongue comes up with the acronym Cocoramado – I love the Latino twist to a Tam dish) aur ek Idli-Sambhar (for my driver – he would prove to be the more intelligent one)”.

“Sirf Plain Sada Dosa milega saab.”

This guy loves simplicity – and he says so with a no-nonsense tone. I am resigned to my fate –

''Wohi la dijiye aur do Thums Up”.

They serve earlier than I expect. We pounce on it like a pack of hungry wolves. The Thums Up arrives a little later – it is positioned as a substitute for dessert. I catch a few eyes around looking at myself and decide to go a little slow in my consumption. I am down to a respectable pace by the time I start sipping on my Thums Up. My driver chooses not to follow suit – he is through with his meal in a jiffy and decides to wait outside.

“Aur kuchh chahiye kya?”

The guy is not pleased at all that his afternoon snooze is being delayed and he makes it evident that he won't relish serving you, if you decide to be brazen enough to order something else now. I am not thinking of it anyway – I love this place so much that I can't think of robbing it of any more of its stocks. I nod my head to say 'no' – he scampers off and comes back with the bill with an alarming efficiency. I am only halfway through my Thums Up. He waits for a few seconds before announcing :

“51 Rs huya hai sir..”

He doesn't seem to be too pleased with my speed and is standing besides the table, staring down at me. I implore for some more time -

“Bhaiyya, khatam karke deta hoon paise.”

He decides to take pity -

“Haan, haan thik hai”.

I take out a crisp Rs 100 note and place it in the small bowl – my man is now happy that the saga is about to end -

“You like the food, sir?”

He blurts out in English. A little part of the training that he got, seems to be still floating around in his head. I nod my head. I am being honest – the food was ok.

He is back with my change.

“Have a good day, sir. Do come back”.

English again - He seems to have shifted gears completely – this guy still expects me to come back to this place after all this?? I take an instant liking to this innocent invitation and leave a decent tip.

As I step out, I notice a small banner to my right -

“OTHER RESTAURANTS SATISFY YOUR HUNGER, WE SATISFY YOUR SOUL”.

I can't help having a good laugh.