The Big Fat Indian Buffet

On a ‘package’ holiday, one part of the action that gives me the heebie-jeebies is the ‘free’, ‘complimentary’, buffet breakfast that hotels line up for us. I just can’t seem to handle these, and I usually end up parked in a lonely corner, ordering a la carte, and paying up big for it.
The reason is simple: we Indians totally lack the buffet consumption etiquette, and what should be a pleasurable activity, where you get to partake of various delicacies on display, turns into a nightmare, an event I totally don’t look forward to.
Here are some tips for readers on buffet behaviour, and I have compiled these after many unsuccessful attempts at this mother of all (mis)adventures.

•Just as it’s deeply offensive and uncivil to jump queues at malls, airports and ration shops, so is the case with buffet spreads. If you follow the food line, you will not only enjoy the ride, but reach your choice of platters smoother and faster. Jumping the line leads to chaos in the food chain, and I have seen people viciously elbowing each other out to get at that extra helping of coconut chutney. Makes no sense to me. Folks at the community bore-well queue are more chilled out. And yup, when you arrive for that second/third/fourth/tenth helping, it’s only correct and fair to rejoin the line. But I know this isn’t gonna happen anytime soon. Indians in general viscerally loathe the concept of queues.

•It’s never a good idea to unleash your kids into the buffet consumption process. With the mad frenzy that often gets underway, I have noticed children being trampled upon (ouch!), and I once spotted a little girl crushed between the legs of some heavyweight patrons. Also kids, quite naturally, struggle with the large food dispensers, the lids of some of these contraptions aren’t easy to pull, even for an 80 kg hulk like me. And so accidents become inevitable. A brat once dropped an entire container of steaming hot sambhar on my crotch. Sure, go ahead, laugh. The feeling isn’t funny though, trust me.

•Some groups (especially the undivided family wallahs) attack the spread in unison, much like a pride of lions. Now this is bad news for the rest, as this causes longer waiting periods, but it can’t be helped. I guess some people actually believe in the theory that ‘families that eat together, stay together’. Though I am quite certain whoever wrote that, didn’t have buffets in mind. But that’s cool. What gets my BP raging is the sight of some of these ‘Hum Aapke Hain Kaun?’ clans get involved in heated debates over which dish appears worth trying… the intense arguments over the merits and demerits of each item. Am sure that’s how families bond, but clearly this practice is unfair to folks waiting in the long queue. The correct thing would be to top up your plate, go to the table, and THEN gossip over the cuisine. Or play antakshri, or whatever it is that gets you off over breakfast.

•After you have richly dug into the container, the polite and hygienic thing is to shut the damn thing down. Hotel staffers do all they can to keep the dishes adequately warmed. Either setting them on simmer, or replacing them at the right intervals. Leaving the containers open not only cools the dishes swiftly, it also makes the khana vulnerable to assault from flies. Is that such a difficult thing to understand?

•I kid you not, some food lovers sniff right into the containers, before deciding if it’s aromatic enough for their refined taste buds. Others grope and feel each chapatti/bread before zeroing in on the chosen one. Do you really want me to explain why these acts are totally repugnant and unhealthy?

I could go on, and am sure you have your own list of buffet peeves. All we need to understand is that the concept of the buffet spread is to make the experience of eating brisk, varied and delightful. It’s not meant to be a game of skill, power and crude behaviour.

Hey, me no terrorist!

To give you an idea of how crazy our intelligence officers can be, here’s what happened when I ran into the Karnataka CM on my recent trip down south. The piece was carried in the Bangalore Mirror. (See below.)

However, before you read it, here’s what you must know about the trauma I faced practically all night after the short interview. I was surrounded by intelligence officers who suspected my background. They grilled me on my name, address, family history, criminal records (not kidding!), blood group, passport copies, ration card copies, hobbies, bad habits, vices… and I don’t even recall what else. The reason? I dared to interview the CM without an appointment!!! And without showing my press card.

Sometime after mid-night, completely pissed-off with this wild, senseless interrogation, I switched roles, and got after the sleuths instead. And then the real picture emerged. Apparently, their chief was maha upset with his officers, because they allowed me to meet the CM without frisking me first, and without demanding my visiting card!!! So they were trying to make amends by harassing the hell out of me. And that too for such a brief, non-scandalous interview! Now just imagine how these smart intelligence cats go about in their jobs to nab terrorists and Naxals.

Here’s the article:

A walk down the Kabini with Yeddy.

I ran into the CM quite accidentally last night. I was put up at the quite and picturesque Kabini River Resort, when sudden hurly burly woke me up from my siesta. I was informed the CM, Shri Yeddyurappa, will be coming over to stay for the night. In the adjoining Maharajah Cottage.
And he, along with his entourage, did so. As I walked out into the lush lawns in the evening for some fresh air, I found the CM doing exactly that, though there was great nip and stride in his amble. Quite understandable that, he had just emerged from possibly the biggest crisis of his long career.
And I asked for an unplanned interview. And to the CM’s credit, despite the fact that this was his day of rest, he gamely agreed. And we spent about 15 minutes stretching our legs and talking politics along the lawns of the swish Resort.
Here are some excerpts:

Sir, what brings you to the Resort? Taking a break from all the recent tensions?
Actually, I am on a thanksgiving journey. Yesterday I prayed at the Chamundi temple, and tomorrow early morning I have to go to pray at another temple close-by, and that’s the only reason I decided to stay at this Resort tonight. I want to thank God for helping me deal with this political crisis.

But Sir, is the crisis really over?
Yes, it is, all disagreements have been resolved, everyone is happy now.

But you had to make many compromises…
No, I am still the CM, and I will continue to work for the people of Karnataka. We are launching many infrastructure projects, especially in Bangalore. We are investing crores of rupees and you will see the results from within a year.

But Sir, media reports suggest that you have now been divested of many powers, and that will hinder your work.
Nothing like that has happened. And I would like to thank the press for all the support.

What was the core issue with the Reddy brothers?
It’s all amicably resolved now, we have to look ahead and work for the benefit of the people.

What are LK Advani’s instructions to you? What was his solution to solve the state’s political crisis?
The party leadership has asked me to take all the MLAs along as I function, so nobody feels ignored or left out.

Which means you were ignoring some colleagues all along, especially the Reddy brothers…
As I said, I have to take all the MLAs along, that’s the party’s thinking, and I will fully go along with it.

Sir, honestly, with all these compromises, do you really believe you will be able to perform effectively for the full term?
Of course, I will.

What made you cry in front of the cameras?
I was genuinely feeling bad for the people of Karnataka. I get very emotional about my people. It is they who have chosen us, and we are answerable to them. That we should have been paying more attention to their problems.
The BJP in Delhi is in disarray. Think this will affect the party’s state wing?
All issues have been resolved, we have full faith in the party leadership.

Who will you like to see as the party’s chief once Advaniji officially retires?
(At this point the CM closes the interview with folded hands. And continues with this long, relaxed walk down the beautiful Kabini. He deserves the break. Yeddy has a long, thorny and winding road waiting ahead in his political career.)

Lest we forget Kargil…

A friend asked me to upload an article I had written for Sunday Mid Day in July 2001, when General Musharraf arrived in India to a grand, grand welcome. And all this tamasha and shor sharaba was happening for the man who was the architect of the Kargil war. The man because of whom many of our brave soldiers lost their lives. Leaving many families shattered and permanently damaged.

I was really pissed off with the mushy welcome for Musharraf, and wrote this piece out of sheer angst and great frustration. It was basically satirical in nature, but by default, it helped us recall the sacrifices made by our brave men and women during the Kargil war. All these images were carried on one page, though I have scanned them separately for readability. The headline was: ‘In loving memory of the Kargil martyrs’.

Despite changing three houses since, I finally managed to locate the piece. And now it can be archived forever. Not just a vivid reminder of the bravery and sacrifice by our soldiers, but also a warning to the rest of us that we must never support the agendas of dirty netas who divide us based on caste, lingo and religion. These good men who died for the nation, for all of us, weren’t thinking language and religion when they took the bullets. Hope we never ever forget this.

A footnote: I have been honoured with a few prizes for my writings. But the biggest honour I received was for this piece from the mother of a slain Kargil soldier. Mrs Kapadia of Mumbai, who lost her only son Nawang, aged 19, in the Kargil war, sent me a miniature kukhri knife (Nawang served in the Kukhri regiment), with a note of appreciation.

That little kukhri will go with me to my grave.