Weekend Coffee Share #19

Technically, this becomes a weekday post because it is already New Year where I live, so Happy New Year!

This could’ve been 20 or 21 but my lazy bum didn’t feel like typing anything much, even if I did want to reach my mark of 300 posts before the end of the year. Oh well.

2017 was a very unexpected year. The first half just whizzed by because I had college, and man, I miss college. I miss all the cribbing, the lab, the lunch, the banyan tree, the movies and of course, all my peeps. Leaving was hard, but we had to accept it, unless I wanted to study masters there only, which I didn’t.

And then my unexpected break came. I had a load of things to do in my break and I couldn’t achieve a single one of them. But there were other things that I did, though. I wrote a lot of poetry and did a lot of art. I’m really proud of that. I also read a lot, but there’s nothing new there. I wish I had blogged more, though. I just keep running out of things to say and even when I sit down to write, I can’t.

I also began Freelancing. It’s quite slow and I have only one client, but it pays okay. It provides for some expenses that I can’t keep asking my family for. By next year, I hope to have more clients, and make it a little steadier.

I can’t think what to write about my year, right now, at least. I’m a little tipsy so I can’t think straight, but tomorrow or day after, I will rehash my entire year (and bore you all to death! mwhahahaha). But for now, this week. Beginning from Christmas Eve.

On Sunday, Christmas Eve, I went and met Nithya. She lived on the other end of the city and I had a good day. Nithya and I spent the whole afternoon just sitting and talking. I can’t remember half the things we spoke about, but I had a really good day. Later that evening, I met my family at MG Road, where my mother wanted to see the lights on Brigade Road. It was really nice! The lights were full and very pretty.

Christmas was such an amazing day. Apart from the book I got from the Bookstagrammers annual Christmas Bookswap, I got so many more gifts from my sister. I swear, nobody else has such an awesome sister. She got me this really pretty edition of Emma, a Magnus Bane candle, a Harry Potter T shirt, a Patronus badge and a Totoro mug. She just knows me SO Well. Whereas I got her Alicia Souza’s (a Bangalore based illustrator whose illustrations are very cute) Happy Girls are the Prettiest calendar. Lame, I know. But she also bought an iPhone7, so it is my responsibility to buy her phone covers. I’ll go broke but if it makes her happy, that’s all I want.

After Christmas day, my family and went to Chitradurga, randomly. More on that later.

On the 30th, I met up with Parvathi (my bae over at Queen Talks) and Poorvi for some bookshopping and lunch. It was another great day. Then we went to drop my cousin off at the airport, who was leaving to Malaysia with her husband.

New Year’s eve was uneventful as usual. But Pappa made us a glass of cocktail so that was nice.

This was my whole week. I probably missed some parts, but, eh. Doesn’t matter.

Happy New Year! DO you have resolutions? Do tell me everything!


The Black Staircase #3

Naveen was supposed to take a picture of the staircase for me, but he does is fly crows. I also noticed the staircase is a metal framework, painted a nice, dark blue that matches a clear night, with black marble steps. So, technically, it ought to be Blue Staircase, but I like Black Staircase better.

This was also supposed to be #2, but I never got around to writing that one. So this is it for now.

Last Sunday, Naveen and I saw Yeshas for what may be the last time in a long time. I don’t know when we’ll see him again. He’s going off to Indian Airforce Academy at the end of December, for a year and half and then who knows? So we decided to meet. But do what? was the question. Yeshas suggested we watch a play at Ranga Shankara. Yes, why not?

The play was called “The Woman In Me”, directed by Pawan Kumar. THis guy is also a film director and I love his films, Lucia and U-Turn. He is also Naveen’s favourite director.

So on Saturday, I went to the post office (which was un-operational to the public) and bought tickets because I was the closest to it, and on Sunday afternoon, I went.

There was a long line to get into the auditorium. The boys were already there so I joined them in line. We stood in the line for about 15 minutes, and when there was 15 minutes left for the play to start, we were slowly ushered in. We found seats off one side, and the auditorium slowly filled up. It actually looked house full, with a few spare seats off the sides and corners.

The play was not what I expected it to be. I expected something along the lines of a man realizing his own thoughts and how his inner self is a woman and what that woman says and things like that. But that was not it. Totally different. But it was nice. A little too intense for me, but I took it like a champ. The overall story was really sad, though.

Then, like usual, we went out to eat something. I suggested ice cream, but the boys dismissed the idea. Then I took them around to an area where they had a small line of chats. We each had a vada pav and a tikki puri. I went in one direction the boys went in the other.

An afternoon well spent.

3:45 PM Tea Time

I have been wanting to write this for weeks. Here it is, finally.

After the first week of classes in Rajajinagar (some 15 kilometers away from home) I’d found my routine and rhythm. I leave my house at 2:45 PM sharp (a few minutes early couldn’t hurt), walk to the Metro train station some half a kilometer from my home, take the 2:57 PM train, get off at Mahakavi Kuvempu Road at around 3:30 PM, walk out of the station, take a left, and the first right. Straight up that road, on the last right, in the corner was a normal chats center and a dosa camp. They didn’t look like anything special. You can see them all over the city. But something did catch my eye, otherwise, I wouldn’t have been writing.

By the end of that first week, I’d found side roads and less crowded roads with better footpaths to walk on. That’s when I’d found this place. The words “flavoured tea” caught my eye. I’d been experimenting tea for a while now. Sometimes I like black tea with a huge squeeze of half a lemon and honey. Sometimes, I like the tea that I make with cinnamon, sometimes elaichi. But I like tea, and most times, I don’t even drink it. I prefer coffee over it because there is something about filtered coffee that can never be replaced.

So, when I found this flavoured tea stall, I was, naturally, intrigued. They had a list of flavours, and that day, I decided to drink all of them. Because once you try one, you had to know how the others tasted, right?


I came back the next day. I took off my headphones while I was approaching the place, and was mentally deciding what to try. I wanted to try rose. That was decided.

Walking up to the man standing at the counter (which is really the Kwality Wall’s dabba), I smiled my small smile reserved for first encounters and asked for the flavoured tea. The man was about Pappa’s age, and he asked me what kind of tea I wanted. I said I wanted the rose one, and he asked the boy making tea at the stall. To my disappointment, it was over, and the man said he had ordered some, and they haven’t come yet. So, I had to pick another one. Which to choose?

Chocolate was, is, and will always be my first option, but I didn’t feel like it. I decided to go with mango flavour because honestly, that sounded a little revolting. The guy began preparing the tea, while the man at the counter and I began the small talk. I hate small talk, but we soon evolved from there because I was getting comfortable there. The mango tea was excellent, and after I was done, I was smiling really huge and I left for class. I had 15 minutes to walk, so I walked in my normal speed, and still got there before the teacher.

I didn’t have the class that entire week. So for the next two weeks after, I went there almost every day. And I am proud to say that I’ve tried almost all the flavours on that menu. Mango and chocolate flavours were really good, and my personal favourite was orange. I had it twice. Bourbon and peach and mixed fruit (not on the menu) were pretty okay. What I disliked most was strawberry. If I thought mango flavoured tea sounded revolting, strawberry flavoured tea was actually revolting. Never again.

That man had also told me about the famous “Dahi Puri” and “Pav Bhaji” that they serve there. I could never have it because I didn’t go back the same way I came. On the last day of class at Rajajinagar (class in Jayanagar was going to start soon), I went there after class that evening and ate the dahi puri. It filled my stomach so much that I could barely walk to the metro station. But it was indeed one of the finest dahi puri I’ve ever had. I have yet to eat the Pav Bhaji, but I will, one of these days.


The puris were filled to the maximum capacity with potatoes, and so much more, and there were two layers of the green, spicy chutney and the sweet tamarind-and-jaggery sauce. It was like an explosion of flavours in my mouth, even if I had to cut the puris in half just so I could fit them in my mouth. I also loved the fact that they julienned carrots and beetroots (which is personally don’t like) and they actually added flavour.

Will definitely go back to eat the pav bhaji. Here is the link for the whereabouts of the place.

The rain and the unpredictable people

It was the night Lord Krishna was born. By tradition and belief, it was said that night had to rain. In the legends, it rained so hard that it almost flooded.

That was in Mathura.

In Bengaluru, it also rained. It also flooded. The only difference was that no babies were born in the Parappana Agrahara jail. Or so I hope.


Since Monday, it has been raining almost everyday. It rained all through the night on Monday, leaving Tuesday morning, Independence day, a very bleak and gloomy and cloudy day. It rained so hard that night, that half of Bengaluru was submerged. Water flooded in houses;  roads disappeared and commuters stood knee-deep in scum and rain water. The weather got really cool; one might argue that it is tending towards cold, but the people haven’t shut up about how the water has flooded into their homes and destroyed it all.

And where were their houses? Lake beds and storm water drains. So who’s really at fault here?

The weather has gotten so nice that you can’t get out of the house with a scarf and a light sweater if you’re walking. I took the Metro train to the GPO on Saturday afternoon, and the clouds over my area looked so amazing.

Bengaluru people are a funny lot. They are as unpredictable as the weather in the city, and the people change from road to road, area to area, just like the weather. If it’s raining, part of the city is enjoying, sitting inside their homes and sipping hot coffees and eating hot hot bajjis; another part of the road is cussing the rains gods in a variety of slangs from various languages across the country. If you’re at the office, you’ll look worriedly out the glass wall and think that you’re going to get home no earlier than 9 in the night.

Picture credits to my best friend Divya!

I really had fun writing this rant.

Discovering Bengaluru

When we were given the task of reading the Bangalore Wikipedia page and making a note of all the things that I didn’t know about Bangalore, I laughed, thinking that there wouldn’t be much that I won’t know about my city, but the Wiki page laughed at me while I was reading because so many things were new! Here is a list of all things that I found were profoundly shocking:

  1. Bangalore receives 800 Million litres of water, A DAY
  2. It ranks fourth in terms of GDP in the country. Now I know what those IT people sitting in A/C offices and riding in A/C cars do all day long, besides adding to the pollution.
  3. The number of Vehicles being registered in RTOs daily is 1250.
  4. Bengaluru is India’s most vegan friendly city by PeTA.
  5. There is an organisation called BEES- Battelle Environmental Evaluation System, for which, if still active, I would like to work.

I tried reading the History section, but it just went all over my head. History is better when you hear it from else, making jokes and adding personal experiences to it, rather than just reading it off somewhere.

First June

This is the first June that I’ve not spent groaning to get up early to get to classes on time. It is the first June where I’m not worried about the evening rain and walking back in that horrendous road to the bus stop. This is the first June where I’m sitting at home and enjoying myself, reading and helping out in my family.

And this period will probably end this week.

This was the first June where I’ve been so emotional. I was just reading things that made me feel overwhelmed and inconsolable and I just sobbed through the night. My new refuge? Colleen Hoover. Even though her books aren’t any happier or on the more positive side, I feel safe reading them, because I know they got a happy ending.

This is the first June that I have written so less. I’ve blogged so less and my poetry has almost come to halt. I should get back up to writing poetry before I completely lose hang of it. I miss it so much.

This is the first June where I run out to the balcony every time I hear rain and smell the fresh tar and petrichor.

This is the first June where I’ll be travelling in the Metro Train from my house! It opens tomorrow and I am so excited for it!

This is the first June where I’ve started painting on canvas. They’re not the greatest masterpieces, but I’ve loved every moment of them. I should get to ordering more canvas.

This is the first June where I’ve struggled to fit all my books in the shelves I can accommodate in my room. Such a sad reality.




Shower is this superb Chinese movie that is just so, so, so simply well put together that it’ll movie you to tears. And you’ll want to rush to the toilet to pee.

It starts off by a man bathing in an automatic shower stall. Then the whole movie revolves around a traditional Chinese showering stall. This showering/bathing place is owned by an old man and his mentally challenged son looking after it. The old man’s older son works in a city firm and lives with his wife. He comes running to rural Beijing (where his father and brother live) when his brother sends a postcard and thought that his father was dead and he ends up looking after the showering place for a while.

This has no fixed plot line. You can’t have a one-line story to it. This movie a riot of emotions: we laughed till tears streamed out of our eyes; we cried in the end and a few times in between; we went ‘awww’; we went mad. It was such an adorable movie that we couldn’t take our eyes off of it at all! It had family emotions, admiration for a talent, simple, exceptional, belly hurting humour.

Coming to the main focus of watching movies in class, the city has been portrayed in a very straight-forward way. When the whole area of their living was going to be demolished, it sounded very much like the scenario that we see in our country. Development replacing culture and tradition has been accepted by default.

The first scene of the automatic shower stall and the traditional bathing place shows a stark contrast in life. In the shower stall, you just go there, put some coins into the machine, bathe and come out and be on your way. But in the bathing place, it’s like a little community on its own. Most of them are old men, who’ve retired and come to spend some time with their friends. Sometimes, children are also seen. And here, we don’t see anyone paying the man. Not once throughout the movie.

It was a delightful watch.

There is nothing that I can do to this review to show all my love for this movie.

Whatever Works

This is movie #1 that we watches in the Bangalore Special Course. The aim of watching these movies is to try and understand the concept of the city in a metaphorical sense.

Whatever Works is a Woody Allen movie set in New York. It is about a man named Boris, who’s into his late 70’s and talks about his life in New York and one day, BOOM! There’s a girl underneath his house stairs and his life changes drastically.

Boris is a physicist and has been divorced for quite some time now. He has high intellect and when Melodie, the 21-year-old-girl who’s really simple minded  lands up on Boris’s couch, he can’t take in her stupidity. After a while, he marries her. And then a whole lot of things happen and what I’m really interested in is the showcasing of the city in the movie.

NYC is kind of similar to Bangalore, in terms of richness of culture and the vast variety of people. It is a lot more cleaner than Bangalore but has lesser green coverage, from what I could see. It had world famous landmarks, like the Statue Of Liberty, which is one of the most distinguished characters of the city. All the big bill-boards and lights and the tiny cafe`s and the people all remind me of Bangalore. There’s just so much to explore in both the cities that living there for one lifetime is nearly not enough!

When we look at the finer details of the culture or the people, only then do we actually realise how different each city is. Bangalore has multi-lingual people and so does NYC but the languages spoken are 90% different from each other. So is the dressing, the transport, the food, the behaviour of the people and the city itself. And to mention the coastline.

This movie was an amazingly entertaining one. It had little adult concepts but, really, does it matter? It was funny in a satirical manner. Every single dialogue Boris speaks, every single action he performs—be it washing his hands for as long as it takes for him to sing “Happy Birthday” twice, or his peculiar manner of being honest on the face and and not ever be bothered by it—has a purpose. Every time he “performs”, it looks like it’s going to make to laugh till tears stream out of your eyes.

It is a must watch movie for high entertaining purposes!

I don’t think I want to change this in any way. I wrote this in 2015, and even though my writing has changed drastically, I don’t think I will change anything.

Goodbye, to my Bengaluru blog

I just deleted my Bengaluru blog.

I created this new blog just for Bengaluru and I’d named it, “Bangalore Through My Eyes”. It was for the English special course that I was taking, and it remained inactive for almost a year! I couldn’t take it anymore.

I already had this blog to fill it with food and culture and movies and everything in between of the city and that blog seemed a little unnecessary. So, I deleted it. It feels a bit sad, though, but thankfully, I don’t have to keep up with another blog.

I couldn’t bear to push that blog away into oblivion, so I took a few posts out of it (which were decent enough) and I plan to put them up here.

So, the next few posts will most probably be from them, and I will heavily revise it and edit it before I hit publish.

Because, honestly, reading those posts now makes me want to hit myself and say, “You have a brain! Learn to use it!” It is so bad.

The Family Masala Dosa

My friends and I had been hooked on this idea to go and eat a family Dosa, which DJ had already eaten. It was such an amazing idea; someone actually thought, “Oh, we’ll make a BIG dosa, and make lots of people eat it together!” It brings together a lot of people and it is one of those rare days where I’ve had so much fun in final year of college.

This was probably one of the last lunches we will ever have as a class, but I’ll not think too much about it, or I will cry.

Everyday, for the past two weeks or so, one of us has always kept saying, “Let’s go eat family dosa!” and the plan always has failed because of dissertation work and whatnot. Finally free from dissertation work and with just one last (lame) practical exam to go, we decided to go.


This seemed like magic. The place was called RK Dosa Camp, in Wilson Garden, and it took us a while to figure out where it was before realizing it was right behind the Shantinagar TTMC. One family dosa costed us 200 INR. Totally worth it.

The place was small. The dosa tava was kept just outside the place. This family dosa was three HUGE masala dosas merged together into one.

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After we ordered it, we went by the man who was making this dosa and we all watched with fascination as this huge dosa came to life. A mesmerizing sight.

Even with an (un)healthy dose of butter and ghee in the dosa itself, we got a cup of butter on the side along with the regular Aloo palya, sambar and chutney. The specialty here was a tomato chutney that was to die for. It was sweet, spicy and sour, all in one.

This was bonding and I’d missed it.

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Empty plates but still hogging up the sambar and palya. 

Picture credits to Smriti and Nairika!