Try to look beyond the smileys.

     Last week, I had this huge party at my uncle’s place, on occasion of his 50th birthday. All the family, friends and close acquaintances, were invited. I usually don’t like attending such parties, but still, for the family's sake, I do. In retrospect, I’m glad I went to this one. It was nevertheless a boring party, but I learnt a real life lesson over there.

    

     I formally met a bunch of people whom, I guess, I only meet on such occasions. And then, as usual, acquired a silent corner took out my cellphone and got busy chatting.

     

     An hour went by just like that, and that’s when an old man came to me. Noticing me completely engrossed in randomly typing things on my mobile screen. He said, “What you young people really have so much to discuss about?”

    I didn’t have an answer to that question. “It’s about studies Uncle” I lied.

“It clearly isn’t about studies, c’mon tell me!” Old man was quite inquisitive.

“We don’t really have much topics to discuss about, but we manage to discover few of them. It spares me from interacting with people I don’t know.” I hoped he didn’t get the sarcasm.

“They are your relatives, aren’t they? How could they be stranger to you? And btw I’m Hitesh Sharma, Managing Director of PKWC.”

PKWC is a big Investment and Finance Company in south Bangalore. It was no less than a prestigious opportunity to talk to its Managing Director. Now, I was a bit nervous. I stood up and proffered my hand for a handshake.

“Sir, its pleasure meeting you, I’m really humbled.” I clearly appeared a bit unsettled while saying it.

“Be seated young man. Tell me, what makes you people so pre-occupied with these apps and social networking sites, that you completely seem to have lost touch with real world that too in such a wonderful party?” He insisted me to answer. 

“I don’t know Sir. I feel addicted to it.” I blatantly replied.

“There you are, so true. Times have changed. We speak to people openly, but hide ourselves behind the mobile screens while doing so. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, true. But hasn’t it made things convenient enough?”

“It’s relative. But mostly, it has diluted the human relationships. I installed WhatsApp a month ago; only to find myself completely engaged by it for hours together. Its human nature to run towards convenience and ease, but isn’t it more enjoyable to meet and hear people in person?”

 

WhatsApp eh? The old man was pretty young at heart. But what he was telling was worth giving a thought.

He continued, “I’ve seen lots of kids of your generation doing the same thing; relentlessly fidgeting with cell phones. You waste more time in waiting for a reply rather than typing a message, isn’t it?” he quipped.

“Indeed!” I replied and chuckled a bit.

By this time the M.D. was sounding quite well versed with the chatting stuff! 

I listened silently as he continued.

“When I was of your age, things were different. We’d no such medium to communicate, to share or, as most of people do now, talk loads of nonsense. We’d no other option, but to meet in person. It was quite a better world then. There was inconvenience but we learned to live with it. We saw people laugh and cry in their real faces and not over digital emoticons. We learned to express well. We shared our sorrow by crying on someone’s shoulder and jumped for joy when we were happy. And people could literally see us doing so! We didn’t played games on a 5-inch touch screen; we’d vast grounds to do so.” He stopped to attend a phone call.

A strongly established person comes to me and blabbers stuff, which is quite insightful, but there must be something that really bothered him while watching me sitting at a secluded corner without actively participating in the party.

“I ain’t boring you right?”

“Absolutely not sir” I replied. He really wasn’t.

Mr. Hitesh Sharma continued.

     “I’ve seen the world beta. I know how it works. You feel close to people on your chat list but rarely meet them. Value these people who surround you right now, whom you can see in real. Feel their presence and rejoice sharing a life with them. Don’t you feel annoyed at times when people don’t reply quickly? Try talking to them face to face; they won’t have enough time to pretend. Try seeing the world with people who don’t hide themselves behind the glossy screens. At times, when you’ll feel really sad, a message won’t be enough to comfort you, but only a real friend who sits beside you and nudges you playfully, can do the needful.

       
      So, try switching off your cell phone for a day or two. At first it’ll make you bit uncomfortable, but keep at it. Go out; visit people who you really feel could be a better company in real world than on phones. You’ll see how happier life could be!”

     That’s when my uncle stepped in and formally introduced me to this amazing man. I came to know, he was a big "apple" fan and a gadget freak. So, basically I was hearing from a knowledgeable person.

    

     The next day I tried to implement his idea of switching off the cell phone for a day or two. It worked off quite well. I haven't completely stopped using WhatsApp and Facebook but now I feel less depended upon them.

    Try living in real world, with real people in real circumstances. Messaging is good, but only for sharing documents not emotions. 

Hyderabad: Non-Vegetarian's Paradise.

       We got down on a quintessentially over populated and dirty Indian railway platform. The abrupt change in the atmospheric temperature pinched my skin. We’d already made arrangements for lodging and a vehicle for conveyance.

       After a couple of minutes we found a huge bearded person approaching us. He had a naturally rude face which made him look like a Sri-Lankan terrorist, and around six and a half feet frame, which clearly stood apart in the crowd.  Later on we discovered that he was the chauffeur who was designated to drive our vehicle. His name was Nathan; quite a deceiving appearance he had. He happened to be extremely polite and well informed about the city.

    All our luxurious expectations got shattered to see a lopsided overburdened Nathan bearing Santro. We stuffed our luggage and got in to the car to straightaway head towards Hyderabad. The journey of scrumptious food and historical places began. 

     A weeklong stay in Hyderabad and a personal car to drive across the entire city enabled me to explore its every niche and corner. I’ve seen its opulence and swankiness in the lavish HITEC city, as well as the disarming historical beauty of its famous heritages like Charminar and Chau Mahulla palace. And I would be lying if I say; I liked the HITEC city more.

     India is known for its legacy of endearing historical monuments and sites that have existed a long way down the chronology. So, when travelling in India it is very necessary that you don’t miss out on them. And yes, when in such famous historical places in India, never skip devouring the delicious platters that are still prepared from the age-old recipes whose origins can be traced down to primeval periods. 

       I was quite astonished to know, that there still exist few undaunted restaurateurs who manage to serve Biryani prepared from unadulterated recipes that have passed on from over generations to them. We visited one such restaurant named Shadab.

  

#Shadab.

     Contemporary India is losing its originality to the gloss and glim of civilization. Comfort may be found in the swankiness of plush hotels, but if you really want to experience the genuine tastes of Indian cuisines, you have to explore the crude areas where exists earthiness of real India.

     Our first day in Hyderabad was quite spent in loitering around the city. A lingering look at Hussain Sagar while meandering along the Necklace road, and few window-seat-glimpses of Charminar and the hustle bustle of streets in its vicinity was what gave us a rough idea about the city as whole. We finally landed on the streets of Madina suburbs. And there it was, in front of us, the first restaurant to visit on our list: Shadab.

     

     “I promise, I’ve read and heard about it a lot; but…” I said, while being appalled at how Shadab appeared.

“Seriously? This? We’re not eating here”, snapped in, not so talkative, Sukrut.

“Lets check it out. We’ve travelled a long way to reach here, just can’t turn about without even paying a visit!”  I tried to convince.

“I don’t even see Biryani getting served over here”, said Anukul.

    

    Shadab was the complete opposite of what we’d imagined it to be. Huge men wearing Pathani outfits, smoking bidis over a cup of tea, was all I could see in there. It certainly wasn’t that family restaurant which you’d recommend your friends and relatives to visit if they ever happen to visit Hyderabad. Ironically, I’d read a lot about it. Its perfectly cooked Biryani, deliciously roasted kebabs, and the famous Payaa, those supposedly sell like hot cakes in Hyd. I wasn’t able to see any of them. But kind of remotely smelled it!

    Finally we decided to enter that filthy looking ancient building that was sweltering like hell. Timidly we occupied a table that was close to the exit, just in case.

    Much to our surprise, we found varieties of Biryani and Kebab enlisted all over the menu. We ordered a Mutton Biryani and Reshmi Mutton Kebab. We waited for around ten minutes before the Manager of the restaurant arrived at our table.

“Sir, we don’t serve food over here. Only parcels. Why don’t you go upstairs?” said the Manager.

At once, we got up and left for the staircase.

    Oh boy! What I saw next was one of the memories that would remain crystal clear in my mind for my entire lifetime.

     We took the staircase. As we started climbing step by step, one after another, the situation started changing gradually. The walls, which were probably white washed decades ago, suddenly started changing their color in to a fresh cream-yellow. The staircase, which looked fragile and historical, changed in to a robust teakwood and carpeted one. A tall, strongly built guard with lengthy moustache presented us Salaam and went on to open the door. The weak aroma that was hardly felt downstairs was now quite vivid and strong. The sweltering heat was replaced by cool breeze from the air-conditioners. We entered in to a pleasantly illuminated and decorated restaurant, which looked quite welcoming. Its interiors were thoughtfully made to give a balanced feel of contemporary and old India. It was a bit congested but delicately designed. That staircase was like a time machine for us. It had literally transited us to an entirely different world. Form filthy to a classy one.

     We finally saw people hogging on beautifully prepared scrumptious Hyderabadi platters. We sat down and started exploring the menu card. That’s when a fact came to our notice, each and every dish on the menu was priced more by rupees fifty as compared to the ground floor menu. Yes! You’ve to pay fifty rupees more per dish (+service tax) to enjoy a cleaner and classier Shadab. We soon went back downstairs (LOL).

    We ordered for a Mutton Biryani, Mutton Roganjosh, Naans and Reshmi Kebab in parcel. While our order was being processed we had a cup of Kesri Chai (tea) each. To cut it short, the tea itself made the cuisine standards quite evident. Shadab was, without an iota of doubt, worth a visit.

    Back to our Hotel room, we emptied the parcel on a large disposable plate. Much to our surprise, it consisted of Biryani enough to feed a Nagpurian for two to three days and that too in just Rs.150.

       The mesmerizing aroma of Biryani filled the room. Perfectly cooked Basmati rice with Kesar hued grains partially covering the Mutton pieces beneath; everything cooked in pure clarified butter (Ghee). And all of that complemented with a spicy curry of Mutton Roganjosh, and soft-dissolving Reshmi kebab and peanut chutney, made me drool extensively. That first bite! A spoonful of delightful rice and a small piece of exquisitely marinated mutton was heavenly. The flavors-rich and vibrant-swirling in your mouth, breaking in parts and combining again. Slowly as the precious taste starts to decline you refill the flavors by taking a small nibble at the Reshmi kebab dipped in peanut chutni. And then again the process repeats. Honestly, that was and still is the best Biryani I’ve ever had in my life. Pure and Authentic.