News, views and a heady brew for the Press

Babban Chaiwala at his shop. MUMBAI, June 3: Babban chaiwala is very opinionated. After over 30 years of pouring out hot cup to journalis...

Babban Chaiwala at his shop.

MUMBAI, June 3: Babban chaiwala is very opinionated. After over 30 years of pouring out hot cup to journalists out of his tiny prop outside the Dadar station, he has a view on everything – politics, sports, media…

Fondly known as Babban Seth, he prefers to do without the acquired second name not out of sheer humility, but simply because he does not belong to such an elevated station in life. His thela became an object of awe twenty years ago, when people began to flock around him to savour a cup of his special chocolate tea. “Even now people think that a cup of the special brew would be highly priced, which it is not. We do not spoon in drinking chocolate here. We simply use a special kind of tea leaves that give out a chocolatey flavour,” says Babban. His stall is the only one here that remains open through the night. He takes up the place of the nimbu paani seller during the day.

His brethren lassi and juicewalas, the flower sellers and sundry chatwalas along the lane outside Dadar station are further awed by the daily sight of tired journos crowding around his shop after nightfall. “Since the time I opened the shop here, they keep coming back to me, even though there are many other chaiwalas along the lane,” says he. Apart from the chocolate variety, there’s the usual special and plain, but all for just Rs 3.50.

Story continues below this ad

“Everyone should be given a chance to take their pick.” Having hobnobbed with the journos of the city for over 20 years now, he has decided opinions on politics, religion and philosophy. “They may not agree with my view, but they do offer a patient hearing to what I have to say,” says Babban.

Despite this, the word `journalist’ is still rather ambiguous to him. “Aap ka matlab hai akhbaarwale?” he asks, following which he rattles off a barrage of names: “Even Ashok Jain stopped by here once,” he says. “Then there are also these newspaper agents who saunter in here for a hot sip first thing in the morning. Woh bhi to akhbarwale hote hain.” The snatches of conversation that seeped in the night before are confirmed the next morning when he glances at the headlines before the newspapers land at your doorsteps. Perhaps the most interesting part of such a select clientele is being privy to the little details of their sojourns around the country, and that they pause to hear stories of his family and his hassles over money.

“Since I do not make it to the Letters column of newspapers, this is the only forum I have to connect with the media, specifically with the problems highlighted in newspapers,” he says. With one son set to become a civil engineer, and another recently out of school, Babban Seth would not mind if one of them were to become an akhbaarwala, which is when he might finally decide to retire. “I have a lot of izzat for them,” he says. Until then, he will continue to serve up his brown concoction to a loyal clientele.