I'd love to have a small bistro some day, something with wooden floors......and lots of cosy corners with knick knacks that tell stories and entertain, lots of coffee and chocolate...(its a heady combination and one of my favourites)...but till then i just hope i keep bumping into places like this.
well, the northeastern friend with a fascination for fried eats was working its head overtime with where to find the next deep fried platter of chicken and in the quest for the same, we reached nizamuddin.I have been there, on more than one occassion to eat the famous kababs that i can almost smell till my house on a day when my head can crave nothing but food! The rumali rotis around here can disappear at double speed before u realise that todays feast will show up on tomorrows weighing scale...and i can hardly concentrate on the conversation when the food is divine..........so nizamuddin becomes a favourite haunt for more than one reasons...its in close proximity to my residence which in a city as huge as delhi is of great consequence, the food here is great and the air around here is mystic enough to make alladin leave baghdad.The place is cramped and swarming with people......men in their long white kurtas and chequered lungis, kohl eyed look into you like they are divulging a secret into your ear,the women peeping from within their burkhas huddle with their children with a faint sense of fear. Walking through the bylanes, i felt like i was looking for lost tresure with no map in hand,walked the bylanes absorbing every sound and memorising each board so as to find my way back from this contorted mess...the dimly lit inns, strange looking beggars with long capes crying out into the night, a dilapilated haveli that looked like it had seen better times and beautiful young maidens and a small graveyard sitting pretty right next to a mechanics shop!!!I really had to pinch myself if i had crossed over from reality to the fantastical just because my imagination and excitement were working overtime!I felt like someone was walking me through a story.Amidst all this was a boy, squatting near a tandoor and making hot bread under a yellow bulb.He had quite some space to himself in a place as cramped as nizamuddin.I just had to take a picture and i was grinning with glee. well, these sort of things do that to me!