Allahabad : Of Buildings and Cakes
Allahabad : Beyond the Kumbh
Why do we not talk about this aspect of Uttar Pradesh – the
aesthetic appeal of its towns? Why is Uttar Pradesh not the state of beautiful
towns I wondered as I moved around Allahabad. Lucknow has a charm of its own,
from the Nawabi history to the display of political power and will in its recent
structures. While Banaras is well – Banaras. Walking in Allahabad I came across
more elegant buildings in a day than I had seen over the past few years.
Structures which repeatedly left me in stunned silence. They belonged to an age
where grace possibly was not rare. Even the two branches of the State Bank of
India, I came across, had grandeur and charm written all over them!
These roads and lanes also took me to my days with Amar
Chitra Katha books. Sketches of the Peeli Kothi, and other Kothis, that were
depicted in more than few books were possibly crafted after observations in
Allahabad.
The Indian Coffee House was fun. Decor is simple, or by
today’s upper class urban standards absent, and menu restricted. Not only do
they provide many dishes in ‘half portions’ but the menu also includes items
like butter, chutney and cream. Many around appeared to be regulars - at home
with the table, chair, cutlery and staff. One of them savoured butter toast
with chutney. Like at their Gwalior counterpart here too they provide mutton
dosa but unlike Gwalior the head-gear here is ‘practical’. The head gear at
Gwalior, more suited to a male bird for attracting females, was large enough to
warrant the staff’s tilting heads each time they went through the door. After
the meal as I stood for paan at the shop adjacent to the entry after exchange
smile and pleasantries another of the shop’s customer asked if he could share a
thought. Best possible way to begin a day is to have a glass of garam paani and read one page of Gita.
Not far from the Indian Coffee House is the High Court. Palash
Krishna Mehrotra, commenting on the name- change, states of the
High court thus, “Allahabad is also home
to the High Court; every second person is an ‘advocate’. Men in black coats can
be seen rushing around town on their cycles and scooters at all times.” On
the name-change itself he writes, “liberals
are making too much about the name-change”. Jaaved Jaffri had
an interesting question during a recent interview, “What will not come of the poet Akbar Allahabadi’s name?”
The internet has a
good habit of throwing surprises. As I roamed online prior to my trip I came
across few. One is that in 1858, Allahabad was deemed the capital of India for
a period of one day as the East India Company handed over the administration of
the nation to the British monarchy in the city.
The other was Allahabad as a bakery town with a large
British and Anglo Indian population on account of Railway, Cantonment and
University. This led me to the Bushy’s bakery. It took an effort to locate the
iconic bakery. My loitering in
Hyderabad had taught me to not assume appearances this was a further
learning in the direction; small, comfortable with self, unassuming and with a
name-plate the size of my palm. Three wood-fired ovens, cake mixed by hand and ghee
used in place of butter have people lining up with ingredients during Christmas
to have their cakes baked. The goat and cat moving around the bakery reminded
me of Saiha. The bakery also bakes breads, buns and pizza bases. I tried the
plum cake and it was unlike any other I had had before. When Aslam bhai, who
owns and runs the bakery, said the cake lasts for 4 weeks I requested him for 4
more.
By Anonymous - India, AKBAR, ALLAHABAD FORT - VIEW OF ALLAHABAD, SHOWING THE FORT, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4104168
I also went to the Khusro baug – not far from the railway station.
People moving around were neither in a hurry nor sporting expensive brands. The
lazy ambience with aunties chatting and young boys playing cricket reminded me
of parks in Hyderabad. With its monuments it brought out memories of Delhi’s
Lodhi Garden. This is a poor man’s Lodhi
Garden. Sitting there, looking around, one somehow felt at ease.
And then there THE KUMBH. Loitering around the Kumbh made
it amply clearly that when we want to take up a project we can do it and do it
damn good. The scale was staggering and the spectacle breath-taking. The sheer
number of lights made me wonder if there were so many, at a single location, at
any other place in the state? Two of the more popular food-stalls at the Kumbh,
according to local newspapers, were Tandoor Chai from Pune and Bangalore Idly
from, of-course, Bangalore. I savoured stuff from both stalls in admiration of
our diversity. Vinod Metha would possibly have quipped, “there is somewhere a moral in all this which I am not able to figure”.
Not everyone loves Allahabad though. Mizra
Ghalib compared it to hell, adding, “only hell was better”. Arvind
Krishna Mehrotra, during an interview, stated, “everyone thinks that it’s all happening
here, when actually there’s nothing happening here. Allahabadis have to be
constantly reminded that their city is not the centre of the universe.”
I end this piece on the city of poets with lines by two of
its famed residents. Harivansh Rai Bachchan, , wrote thus, “Sardiyon ki alsaai dopahar mein Ilahabad ke
amrood kuchh alag hi maza dete hain. Unka swaad aur badh jaata hai jab aap
chaat masale ke saath amrood ki phaankon ka aanand uthate hain. His contemporary,
Suryakant Tripathi ‘Nirala’, wrote back, “Ek
haath mein amrood aur doosre mein qalam”.
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