Meditation To Madras Coffee House

A long meditation was due after the session of a short one that I had with my buddy in the month of December. The long meditation happened in the month of February at the Paramhansa Yogananda Self-Realisation Centre (of Yogada Satsang Society of India) in Central Delhi – an oasis of tranquility in the midst of frenzied existence. In the peaceful prayer hall filled with nothing but silence, me and my sister lost ourselves into our beings. After an hour and a quarter we awakened to our surroundings completely rejuvenated , our senses on the alert.

It was afternoon and we needed to partake of lunch. Since the meditation centre is quite far from our home we decided to go to Connaught Place, the nearest shopping arcade, where there are a number of vintage eateries, restaurants and coffee houses.

A little about the shops in Connaught Place – I call them vintage because most of them date back to pre-independence time. Their interiors, still unchanged,  bear an understated elegance – a mark of that era. Most of the shop owners are  running the business for generations. Their over-the-counter conversations have an air of dignity  which is not in any way comparable with the transactions we have at present day malls.

If you enter the historic Rikhiram & Sons you step into another time zone. Framed pictures of music maestros adorn the walls along with ornately carved musical instruments in shining glass and polished wood showcases. The photographs are not merely promotional gimmick but proof of heritage – the generations of music doyens who swear by the authenticity of the shop (read maker) and still patronize it, their progeny included.  If you are lucky you will find the owner deep in discussion, with one of today’s giants of classical music, on the choice of the  right instrument – the quality of  its pitch and scale and sound –  the one undoubtedly the artist should take home. You may also chance upon  one of the masters  trying their hands on the suggested instrument breaking into an extempore gat or bandish (composition pieces of instrumental music) eventually convinced by the advice given by one who knows the art and craft of the discipline through and through.

Likewise are the book shops redolent with the nose twitching fragrance of paper and print. You name an author they will present you with the whole range of his/her penmanship. And then there is that photo studio which claims to convert an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan as the photographer clicks you from the exact apposite  angle with uncanny proficiency – in today’s selfie craze perhaps obsolete.

Years back I used to visit one small shop under a staircase bursting with  wondrous stacks of music cassettes, CDs and DVDs. The shop had a remarkable collection of classical music – both instrumental and vocal. Often the owner himself would suggest the musicians I should listen to once I told him the raga I was looking for. Here in CP, as it is colloquially called, one doesn’t do the ordinary activity of buying and selling but  transacts in depth of knowledge and unmatched experience. The shop owners not only know what they’re selling but also the intrinsic value of the product unquantifiable by its monetary worth.

Coming back to lunch we chose to visit Madras Coffee House – established in 1935. The unpretentious exterior belies a gentle and subdued atmosphere inside where loudness does not have an inch of space. The owner himself supervises the services. The waiters are polite and courteous. The lunchers are a relaxed community of office goers and families with friends and relatives or simply friends. Conversation flows serenely. It is obvious that the patronisers are dedicated clientele of the eatery like my elder sister who accompanied me. She said she used to frequent this place much before her marriage when she was doing her post grad – more than fifty years back!!

The first few pages of the menu card tells the story of how the coffee house came into existence -another exception –

“A historic outlet established in 1935 (converted 1950), is known as a legacy, no-frills spot with an old world atmosphere” – Wikipedia

Though it serves North Indian, Chinese etc. we ordered South Indian – Podi Dosa and Utthapam. Interestingly, the Utthapam boasted a tag – Kuchh Nahin, meaning nothing , however, it had everything  – paneer, capsicum, tomato. The taste of food in CP is subtle, underwhelming yet unmistakably memory making be it Ambassador’s mutton steak or Ginza’s Japanese and Chinese cuisine or Madras Coffee House’s podi dosa.

We ended with coffee – sister preferring black – Vietnamese (with cream and mint) and I sticking to the age old comfort of plain, cold coffee.

We ended the trip with a short sojourn to Nalli’s – my go-to place for sarees, suits and fabrics! Another outlet which I can swear by for exclusive Indian wears from gorgeous South silks to ethnic, cotton casuals.

Connaught Place or CP stands resolute like a dollop of bygone times stubbornly unmoved by change. There are seasons which are earmarked for a must visit to a number of outlets gothically entrenched inside its muted whitestone facade beckoning bewitchingly if not for anything else than just to walk the length of corridors browsing, window shopping or just admiring and soaking in the old worldly charm of a past which refuses to fade away from Delhi’s contemporaneity brought about by the irreversible alterations to the face of the city in quick successions.

All pics from Google. Pics of Yogada Dhnyana Kendra courtesy Amit Pratap Singh.