COFFEE COUNTRY

“This is the place for upcoming musicians. The crowd doesn’t judge you,anyone can document their art,” says Mohammed Abood of Reggae Rajahs,a Delhi band. “Our first live performance was at TLR,we celebrated our first anniversary as an underground movement performing with UB40 last week. TLR gave us a platform.” Was this planned? “This is an experiment,I’m not a businessman,” says Gautam Aurora,owner of TLR.

Then there is Mumbai’s Blue Frog. On any given night,you’ll find futuristic “pods” and bar stools occupied by regulars. “In New York,I can walk into so many bars and listen to some good music. I just discovered the Blue Frog in Mumbai and it offers me the same experience,” says Edward Richards,a New Yorker residing in India. Blue Frog showcases new talent. In fact,they even have a studio and recording label (started by owners and musicians Ashutosh Phatak and Dhruv Ghanekar).

“Most months we make no profit and just break even because of the high costs of bringing international artists. We run this place more as a passion than a business,” says Phatak.
“The menu was designed for foreigners” says a confused Paul Chow,co-owner of The Spanish Café. Kolkata’s Sudder Street has all but lost its nefarious reputation. “Today,Sudder Street is a cool place to hang out at. We can easily spend hours here,” says Bidisha Biswas,a student at St Xavier’s College.

What brings these youngsters here? Perhaps the nutella pancake (a staple in the backpacking Westerners diet) or the exhaustive collection of foreign books? “The biggest lure is the freedom to be what I want to be. Recently I brought along a spray can with me and made graffiti right outside the case. No one said a word to me. In fact,the owners appreciated my work,” says Sudeshna Roy.

Entering the salad bowl
Retro posters flank the indoor seating area and gramophone records embellish the wall in Mumbai’s Bagel Shop. Lily Karlsdottir from Iceland sits in the corner with an Indian friend,Saudamini Junnarkar,but ironically it’s the former,a regular now,who introduced the Mumbai resident to the place.
Such places are where cultures converge and act as networking hubs. Alison Maratta,a Canadian,flips through a magazine as she waits for her Italian friend Carlos. “I don’t even know his last name. We met here a few weeks ago and often meet up in the evenings for a chat. He’s my first friend in India,” she says.

Delhi’s Urban Café stands as a reminiscence of times,when leisure was the essence of life and smoking from the same sheesha was a sign of brotherhood. Every day,college students Fahaan,Achin and Ishan,make their appearance at the Urban Café. “Our day is incomplete if we do not come here,” says Achin. They live in their own homes,spend hours in their classrooms and corridors. The café is the sole place where they have carved a special abode for themselves.
Then there is Anand Handa,a realtor and permanent fixture at the Urban Café. “While I am at work,it’s all professional but this place helps me get in touch with the real me. I am acquainted with everyone who comes here and we are all like coffee shop buddies.”

The past in the present
John stands behind the sparkling pastry counter at Flury’s and contemplates the weekday afternoon crowd. The light from the grand chandelier that dominates the high ceiling of Kolkata’s most celebrated tea room doesn’t exactly flatter John’s visage—his hair is thinning,his forehead is a deep furrow of wrinkles— and the establishment’s oldest employee is aware of that. “I have grown old in this place,” smiles John as he removes a-less-than-perfect lemon tart from the display counter.
If indeed the waxing and waning of a city’s fortune is reflected in its restaurants,then Flury’s can well be called the city’s most potent mirror. “I can be nostalgic about the comfortable black sofas we would spend hours in,but that would be just an indulgence. The truth is Flury’s has kept abreast with the times and caters to a new Kolkata which is actually all about resurgence,” says 50-year-old businessman Sambuddha Chaudhuri,a regular for 40 years.

In a sharp black suit,the strapping young Siddharth Dhar represents the new face of Flury’s. “We want to establish this place as a global café where people from different corners of the world are at home,” says Dhar. Gabriella Pollelta,a documentary filmmaker from London,agrees. “The place looks like a posh cafe in Piccadilly,London.”
Like enlightenment,the Koshy’s state of mind ( as they call it in Bangalore),is inevitable if you are tuned in. With its British-era ambience,Koshy’s is a throwback to an old Bangalore. Languid,easy-going and egalitarian,Koshy’s freezes time within its four walls even as a new Bangalore races past outside its large windows.
In the smoking days,Koshy’s was literally a den threatening to go the way of Paris cafes — blackened roof and the like. Fears of the ban on smoking killing the joy of a Koshy’s experience have been unfounded. People still throng in. They step out,smoke and never return to find their seats taken.
—(Prabhjot Sohal,Dipti Nagpaul-D’Souza,Natasha Sahgal,Premankur Biswas and Johnson TA)