" a humble tribute to Koshy's, the iconic restaurant in Bangalore that so many generations have loved."
This is the tale of an old café,
A place where Time stands still,
And you can dawdle over coffee
Without being presented a bill.
Serving food and drink to everyone
For over sixty years -
Chicken patties and chutney sandwiches
Or rums and vodkas and beers.
Now there be ghosts in the woodwork here
Who could tell you many a story
Of plots hatched and lovers matched,
Of scandals , laughter and glory.
Bold adventures, rainbow myths
and dreams
Were spun out of the sugar and spice
Of tea and cofee and cutlets and cake
Or papads, curry and rice.
Some first came here as tiny tots,
Each given a special high chair,
In the peaceful days of long ago
When folks loved
traditional fare.
Sunday morning appams and stew
Or bacon and eggs and toast
Long drawn convivial lunches ,
Fish ‘n chips for the hungry host.
Now the tang of fresh morning coffee
Draws many a regular guest-
Lawyers taking a break from court
For conversation and jest.
The students, artists, businessmen,
Stoic, toiling writers too,
The mooning couples lost in their dreams,
The disciples and their guru.
They all flock to the familiar cafe
Where they can find some cheer,
Or entertainment or camaraderie,
Long conversations over beer.
In a world going mad with rapid change,
These old walls bring some calm
The very sameness of the place
Acts as a magical balm.
The waiters in their ancient white,
The solid silverware,
The faded pictures on the walls,
The history in the air -
All these make up the timeless café
Where all things stay the same,
As generations come and go,
Playing the human game.
There’s the table of the old men.
There’s the table of the young,
The little table against the wall
Where a famous song was sung.
There’s a table by the window,
Where dreamers sit and stare
And the tables in the corner -
Lovers’ secrets to share.
A table for the madmen
and a table for the wise
And a table by the pillar
For some special exercise.
Let the world go to perdition
We care not in the least:
Come now all ye faithful
And join us at the feast!
For here we gather together
In an eternal dream
Eating our caramel custard
And our fruit salad and cream.
Creating with our voices
The din of timeless lore,
Unravelling like frothy waves
Upon some primeval shore.
Waiters glide by silently
With trays of food and drink.
Familiar strangers greet each other
With smile or nod or wink.
Some may seek good fortune,
Some may seek out fame,
But every heart here treasures
The comfort of the same.
Here old men speak of
politics
And of the days gone by,
The children scream and run about,
The patient parents sigh.
The nabob is measured for a suit,
A fight breaks out somewhere,
As booming voices echo
Through the gossip-laden air.
Unperturbed, the yogis levitate,
Borne on the coffee smoke,
Speaking of alien mysteries,
Of the wisdom of the joke.
Forget your worries and your strife -
The coffee’s freshly brewed
The raucous youth with his rum and coke
Is merely pleasantly stewed.
Two pretty girls cause heads to turn,
They pointedly ignore
The boorish stares and fading airs
Of some aged Lothario.
The waiters laugh in secret,
They have nicknames for all
And they mutter to each other
As they lean against the wall.
Days bright hum fades to evening’s fun,
The night grows merry and gay
Cacophony is the anthem
At the old timeless café.
Abandon fear, ye who enter here,
This dimension’s beyond Time.
Here there is only the endless story
And the never-fading rhyme.
…………………………………….
