BAR

”DRUMBEAT BEER BAR”

The signage both in English and Devanagari script proclaimed the name of the establishment.

Rama Shetty with folded arms, burdened shoulders and tears in his eyes stood at the entrance watching the board of his Udipi restaurant ’’RAMAKRISHNA UDIPI HOTEL’’ being replaced. He was getting sentimental but he knew he had to be practical. Above his head, a big board with coloured neon lights lit up the new signage

A huge thoran (garland) of marigold and mango leaves adorned the entrance.

His eyes moved towards a lemon, chilli and charcoal thread that hung on in the centre of the doorway.

Traditionally the original purpose of hanging this outside the door was to keep away Alakshmi, or Jyestha who brings poverty and misery and is considered inauspicious. Alakshmi is the sister of Goddess Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of fortune and prosperity. 

It is believed that Alakshmi likes sour, pungent and hot things. Therefore shopkeepers, merchants and people tie lemons and green chillies on the doorways of their shops and homes so that Alakshmi will only come up to the door, eat her favourite food, satisfy her hunger and leave without entering.

It is believed that after consuming lemon and green chillies, Alakshmi will turn around without casting her malevolent eye as she loses her urge to enter the house or shop.

He hoped that going forward this lemon chilli combination would work better on Alakshmi.

He also hoped that the word BAR would help turn his fortunes.

After all, the year was 1975 and he was in Mayanagri Bombay.

He had come a long way to be in the space that he stood. He was proud of his establishment and proud of his achievements. He would not give up.

                    

                       ———-///———

Rama Shetty was a migrant from Udipi in Karnataka and had a wearisome beginning in Bombay. He somehow managed to get a roof for him, his wife and his ten-year-old son.

A kind-hearted man, Bajirao Karkare, impressed by his enthusiasm to work hard and make his mark in the city took pity and gave him a job.

Bajirao owned a small restaurant, a few buildings away from this Irani cafe.

He employed Shetty to work in this restaurant. Lady Luck was on Shetty’s side and the city was kind to him. 

The dimly lit, gaudy oil painted stuffy place was serving basic fare. Onion bhajia (fritters) pola (wheat pancakes) chappati (griddled whole wheat bread), poha (tempered beaten rice), jhunka bhakar (chickpea flour porridge with jowar or bajra flat bread) and usal pav (curried sprouts with bread loaves) were its specialities. Seating was in the form of long tables wooden benches and hard wooden benches. Ten to twelve people huddled together, six on either side of the four time-worn wooden benches and dark tables. The atmosphere was unique. The untiled hard cemented flooring was greasy and sticky and continuous cleaning made little difference to it. Bare light bulbs hung from streak entwined wires spreading a low luminosity. The walls were fitted with long dark wooden shelves supported on wooden brackets. Aluminium and steel boxes storing foodstuff and ingredients were scattered around these shelves. Being near the cotton mills this place was frequented by the hungry factory workers who were oblivious to their eating surrounding. Diners never felt strange sitting around unknown people at their table. 

Initially starting as a kitchen hand, scrubbing pots, dishes, plates steel glasses he slowly moved to help to cook in the hot and sweaty wood and charcoal fire stove kitchens. Shetty slowly introduced a few South Indian Udipi dishes to the menu which was welcomed by the clientele. People started loving his food. Business prospered. He gained the confidence of Bajirao and got monetary rewards from his employer. Both progressed financially.

Years later the elderly Bajirao wanted to retire and go to Kashi with his wife on a pilgrimage in search of moksha  (liberation). Hindu scriptures say that dying here and getting cremated along the banks of the holy Ganges river allows you to break the cycle of rebirth and attain salvation.

Bajirao wanting to do this in the last lap of his life and having no other immediate family offered to sell the business to Shetty. It was a very reasonable offer.

Udipi restaurants are credited for having introduced to the city staples, which were once part of temple cuisine at the famous Sri Krishna temple in Udipi, Karnataka.

Inside these restaurants, everything is precise, like clockwork. A uniformed waiter appears at one’s table within seconds to take the order. His colleague wipes the table and places glasses of water. Affordable tasty food is served quickly in a clean bright environment.

RAMAKRISHNA UDIPI HOTEL was born. 

The above principle was applied here as well by Shetty who worked hard and honestly.

He used his magic wand fired with a willing to change and lots of hard work. 

A bright clean Udipi restaurant emerged in place of the smoky dingy Maharashtrian eating house.

Bright Sunmica topped tables and sturdy bright chairs replaced the wooden benches and tables.

The cemented ground was replaced with huge squares of floor tiles and the walls and ceiling were given a fresh lick of bright paint. The stark wires and bare bulbs were replaced with fluorescent  tube light fittings brightening the place. The kitchen was renovated introducing gas stoves and making it smoke free and airy.

Originally the menu comprised of traditional dishes like Idli, Vada sambhar, different type of  Dosa like Uttappam, sada dosa, masala dosa, rawa dosa, and beverages from coffee, tea and soft drinks to homemade fresh juices and milkshakes.

Rama was lovingly called ’Anna’ (means elder brother) by all his friends and clients in the business. He had learnt the ropes of the restaurant trade.  He had also inculcated good habits and a simple way of life. The hard work was paying off and business was growing.

Over the years the menu evolved to include everything from pav bhaji and samosa to pizza and Indian Chinese. 

A few years later when Shetty wanted to move to a bigger space, the sale of the nearby Irani cafe was lucrative. 

Originally owned by two Parsi brothers Rustom and Jehangir, who were Persian immigrants, the place, operating as an Irani Cafe, was thriving due to the footfall from the local clientele of workers and out-of-work youth with lots of time to spare. Serving sugary milk tea and bun-muska (freshly baked bread lathered with butter) the cafe had a quaint but welcoming quality. There was ample space with generously spaced seating. It had a classic subtle colonial touch; high ceilings fitted with slow whirring three blade ceiling fans, with black, bent cane chairs, wooden tables with marble tops and glass jars that allow a peek into the baked goods and candies and chocolates they held. Huge glass mirrors on the walls created a feeling of space. Both brothers greeted visitors with eagerness and a whiff of baking. The speed of operations was impressive and the service quite hassle-free.

However, times changed rapidly in the city and with that eating habits changed. To adapt and sustain, the brothers changed their decor and menus to serve a wider range of customers. It did not work and they had to eventually sell it off. This is where ’Anna’ came in. The deal was done and the transition of RAMAKRISHNA UDIPI HOTEL to this new site was smooth.  He used his magic wand to convert the Irani cafe to an ’Udipi’. Anna and his restaurant prospered in this new spacious site. This elevation progressed for a few years.

However, the food scene in Bombay was continuously evolving. As year's back the Irani cafes had died a slow death, a similar calling had now come for the Udipi restaurants to change or die.

The original working-class clientele who thronged the Udipi restaurants for quick meals of breakfast, lunch, evening tea and dinner gave way to the bell-bottomed and jeans - tee shirt easy-going youth looking for swanky joints to enjoy mugs of beer and plates of snacks. The ’middle class’ had started getting disposable income. Their drinking and eating habits had changed. The Udipi restaurant was slowly being deserted and ‘Anna’ felt the strain as Alakshmi crossing the threshold was entering the premises. His finances were depleting. He temporarily shored the business with his savings.

However, over a period of time money flow was getting to be a problem and he slowly started feeling the pinch. His debts increased. The business was bleeding. The hyenas were circling. His creditors were after his blood. 

Kingfisher Beer and Good Times had come and was being advertised as a way of life. Beer bars were sprouting all over the city. It was the Time of the Hour. Unfortunately, it was an onslaught on Udipi restaurants.

Two decades back this corner space boasted of an Irani restaurant which morphed into an Udipi restaurant. It was time for another change. 

’Anna’ had to save his dying restaurant business.

He was not very keen to get onto the business of selling liquor. But now it was a question of survival.  He had to evolve. He had to convert his Udipi restaurant to a BEER BAR. He decided to take a leap of faith. 

’Anna’ acquired permits required for the transition. He renovated revamped and renamed the place. The signage of ”RAMAKRISHNA UDIPI HOTEL” got replaced by ”DRUMBEAT BEER BAR”.

                         ———-///———

There was a flicker of hope in his eyes which slowly replaced the tears. 

This time around, BAR would be his saviour.