Indian Coffee House - An Old World Charm

I usually get a lift to office from a colleague of mine. So I walk all the way from Commercial Street to the entrance of Brigade road and get picked up from in front of Cauvery Handicrafts at about 8:10 AM. So today I was waiting at the same place when I get a call from the colleague saying that the car has had a puncture and will take atleast half an hour to reach MG Road.

So I decided to walk down Brigade road and see if some place is open where I can do some timepass. I realised that when you take a walk on that road when nothing is open, you do notice a lot of shops, which you would have missed on a crowded friday evening. But I was surprised to see a "Kohinoor Restaurant" on Brigade road. It is so shabby that I really didnt want to taste the coffee there. And you wouldnt believe it, there is no newspaper vendor also anywhere.

So I decided to take a walk on MG road towards Kumble circle. Luckily for me, the Deccan Herald office there sells Deccan Herald on MG road. So newspaper problem solved, but where do I sit/ stand and read it. I keep walking till I see Indian Coffee House. The door was closed. And somehow I thought they opened early morning. But then, one person, just pulled open the door and went in. That is when I realised that they were allowing people in. So I too enter the hotel to find atleast 4 tables occupied with people reading newspapers and no tea/coffee served.



It was 8:15 AM. Most of the people were old and were deeply immersed in their newspapers. I take the table next to the big, wide window overlooking the MG road. After some time an old man comes and sits on the other side of my table, though there were some 4-5 tables that were unoccupied! He gave me some suspicious, I-have-not-seen-you-here-before looks. That is when I realised that maybe he was a regular customer and this is his usual table and I am the one who is encroaching. We sat on the same table without talking to each other but exchanging smiles.

That is when I started noticing the crowd coming into ICH. A chauffeur driven car stops and a couple in their thirties come in for break fast. A old red kinetic honda parks on the side and two girls in khader, with jute bags come in. The old man orders egg sandwich and I ask for tea. The walls have not been given a new coat of blue for I dont know how many years. The wooden panelling has come off at most places. I see that the footpath outside has the same mosaic pattern as the inside.

After I read India's heroic exploits in the common wealth games and the pathetic display in Mumbai, my coffee is over and I get a call from my colleague. Time to gte back to the real world. For some time I was living life in slow motion.