The Ballad of the Timeless Cafe

" 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.

…………………………………….