Who gets to determine when the old ends and the new begins? It’s not a day on a calendar, not a birthday, not a new year. It’s an event. Big or small. Something that changes us. Ideally, it gives us hope. A new way of living and looking at the world. Letting go of old habits, old memories.
My Sunday opened with reading news of closures. Two heartbreaking ones. Yes, the 100 year old B Merwan & Co, more affectionately referred to as Merwan’s - the bakery & restaurant in Grant Road will shut shop come 31st March, 2014. Much before Mumbai found it fashionable to be up early for a jog thanks to the Mumbai Marathon, Merwan’s used to wake Mumbaikars up and line them up outside its store as early as 5-5:30 AM for the freshest batch of Mawa Cakes. It is common to return disappointed if you were to reach by 7 AM. The owners & bakers themselves used to be at the shop at 3 AM daily. There was clearly more to this enterprise than money, it was love!
The Brun Maska, omelettes and the custard have been companions to those intimate conversations or just plain jovial banter. The chairs made in Czechoslovakian wood or the Italian marble topped tables were the ambience which catered to a Bombay, yes Bombay and not Mumbai, which was home to the most cosmopolitan Indians truly secular in their approach. A mill worker, an old Parsi Bawaji or be it the budding college couples bunking lectures to catch the matinee at Minerva closeby, it served wholesome honesty and love to everyone, equally.
The glass ‘Barni’ which kept your ‘Khari / Bun Pao’ safe or the ‘Jam Puff’ which used to be the eternal reward, will perhaps now realise, that it is not just entrusted with the khaaris but is also a custodian of a million moments of nostalgic timeless experiences which many would now call memories.
The other closure refers to the report of the ever dwindling number of Udupi restaurants in the city. Once they dotted the street corners of Bombay with the same humility that personified the people of this city. They were so closely interwoven with the social fabric of this city through the late 50’s till date that reading reports of more than 90 Udupis shutting shop in the last 2 years feels akin the gradual but disturbingly familiar disappearance of the sparrows from our windows.
Their beauty lied in their honesty and simplicity. Their menus didn’t run into endless pages, neither did they resemble designer catalogues. The food was not tiny morsels dished out in choicest of porcelain, the waiter was not the suave gentleman, but your friendly lungi clad ‘Thambi’ – They were our first tryst with amazingly refreshing filter coffee, minus the intimidation of the decision making one goes through while ordering a coffee nowadays (Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, hot, iced, blended etc...). Yes, the place did not boast of anything it wasn’t but still managed to not only nourish your hunger pangs but satiate your soul. Some of its wall sported matter of factly – “This place is not for meeting – only for eating” – That’s perhaps the refreshing honesty we fail to appreciate today.
What’s important is that we never stop believing we can have a new beginning. But it’s also important to remember that amid all the crap are a few things really worth holding on to. Who gets to determine when the old ends and the new begins?
PS: The piece was loosely inspired by reading 2 disturbing news reports in Today’s Sunday Times & A conversation with a certain vagabondish friend! ;)
