• The Malls of Pune

    Amanora Town Centre, Amanora Park Town, Hadaps...
    Amanora Town Centre, Amanora Park Town, Hadapsar Pune 411028 (Photo credit: Ravi Karandeekar)

    Since Sunday I’ve been in Pune the “cultural” capital of my state – Maharashtra. Known for its slow paced life in  a mainly academic city, Pune has transformed beyond recognition from the days when I was a kid. At one time we used to walk every where, cycle to far off places, eat at home and occasionally go to Kwality’s or Latif’s, take side long glances at Dorabji’s, buy biscuits from Kayani’s and generally think of nothing more hectic than which movie was playing at the Club. For the past twenty years, Pune’s mushrooming colleges and educational institutes have brought in students from places far and wide that Marathi is rarely heard on the streets. In fact Marathi is rarely heard even in private homes with most families having at least one person “over there” and grandchildren sporting distinctly Yankee accents.

    Laxmi Road in Central Pune
    Laxmi Road in Central Pune (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    Going to Tulshi Baug or Main Street has become not only passe but downright avoidable. With Tulshi Baug bang in the middle of the city where only the foolhardy would venture to take their own car, rikshaws positively refusing to stop to either take you there or from out of there, it is obviously off the shopping radar. Similarly, with Main Street looking decidedly dowager, we only land up going there out of loyalty or nostalgia. Traditional shopping has been completely drowned by the new malls that have sprung up sometimes opposite one another!

    Yesterday I visited AMANORA, the latest in the malls of Pune. This gigantic mall  at Magarpatta which is still largely empty is pure competition to Phoenix Market City on the other side of the river at Lohegaon. We spent a wonderful two hours yesterday browsing through the shops at Amanora. Though most of the shops are still to be occupied, there was a nice lively feel to the place. Of course at two in the afternoon there were very few crazy shoppers around but I can imagine the buzz on a weekend or later on in the day. Going past old favourites like Biba, M & S, At Home , Big Bazaar, Crosswords and even a Bata, made me realise that there was absolutely no need to go from shop to shop in the hot sun when you can easily spend that time in a climate controlled environment.

    Two distinct blocks with a courtyard in between  offer shoppers two distinct shopping areas. The West Block with its pricier retail outlets like Mark & Spencer and fancy dining options and the East Block with more affordable stuff and an 8 screen multiplex. With lots of watering holes like Cafe Coffee Day ( there are three outlets in this mall), TJ’s with its own homemade brew, and upscale dining options like Mangi, Zambar, this is surely the best place to spend a few hours or so especially on a hot day!

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  • I can’t count the number of times when I  think of my daughter and  – bang – within seconds she calls me.

    “Hi Ma,” her cheery voice carries over the miles, immediately lifting up my spirits.

    Similarly whenever I think of my mother, she gives me a call and I hear her ask tentatively,

    ” So what are you doing?” wondering if she is disturbing me at all.

    It is uncanny how sometimes we cook the same food – all three of us in different parts of the world –  or at least think of cooking the same kind of food. Or we go to see the same movie almost at the same time……..

    Last night I thought of making Mango Chutney an old family recipe that I managed to inveigle out of my mom all those years ago. She was reluctant to part with it initially, as it was a family secret passed on to her by her mother-in-law, my grandma who lived in the days when a woman’s worth was measured by her girth. She was re-knowned for her cooking, and even though my father believes that the only reason all people think their mother’s food is the best because  that is the first and sometimes only food they are weaned on, my father and his siblings were not the only ones who thought so. So when I hear that anything tastes the way my grandma made it, I know that it is good.

    As with all women, My mother learnt a few of my grandma’s recipes , especially the ones my father particularly liked and even though I am not half as good as either of them, I enjoy cooking and trying out new recipes from time to time.

    Inspired by the big fat mangoes in Bhaji Gully last week, I  made a huge jar Mango Pickle for the first time in my life. And seeing those succulent pieces of mango wallow in the oil and spice, I was further inspired to try out the Secret Mango Chutney yet again. After my initial forays in making it, I stopped  simply because no one really wanted to eat it –
    it’s too rich,
    it’s too sour,
    it’s not like what my mother made.

    With these tepid responses, I obviously stayed clear of making any chutney and it was only last night that I thought I’d give it a try.

    So off I went to Bhaji Gully yet again ( I’m becoming like those persnickety housewives who insist on fresh veg every time!!!!) and got down to buying Rajapuri Mangoes this time. These huge big mangoes are less tart than the Ladva mangoes I had bought for the pickle and particularly lend themselves well to making the Secret Mango Chutney.

    Dwarka, the friendly mango lady volunteered to peel and grate them for me, assuring me that as long as the seed was left inside the grated mango it wouldn’t discolour. I then picked up the rest of the ingredients I needed – garlic, ginger, dried red chilli, dry fruit and a bottle of white vinegar.

    It took about an hour to cook everything down to a glistening sweet and sour chutney.  While it cooled I toodled off to buy some jars and then this morning, after it cooled,  I filled up jar by jar to gift each friend of mine with this special taste of summer…….

    p.s. This morning my mother called to say that she was going to the Bazaar to buy Rajapuri Mangoes to make the Secret Mango Chutney. She too hadn’t made this for quite  a while and was inspired to do so this year.  So are we telepathetic or what?

  • Crossing Tracks

    Map of Mumbai city district and Mumbai suburba...
    Map of Mumbai city district and Mumbai suburban district, with major roads, railways and water bodies. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    The Railways are Mumbai‘s lifeline . Running from North to South and from West to East, literally thousands of people use this mode of transport everyday. I have not used the train very much ( the last time I used it was 4 years ago when I accompanied Anna Shetty for an entrance exam held in Mahim only because the roads were closed because of the Mumbai Marathon). Even as  a college student, I didn’t have much use for the train and  used it occasionally to visit my grandma or uncle in the suburbs. So I am not as ardent a fan as Anna Shetty, who till today maintains that this is the fastest and best mode of getting from Andheri to Fort in under an hour.

    More than half the people who work in Mumbai use the train and our driver who lives 120 km away is no exception. This upright law abiding citizen who till date has never told a lie, never cut a signal, never crossed the speed limit was actually caught and fined for crossing the tracks.

    I couldn’t believe that Madhukar would ever do such a thing but then I realised  

    a)  everyone is capable of doing anythingb)  it is only the fear of being caught that prevents one from doing anything wrongc) everyone knows the consequences of their actions and are  prepared to be caught/punished when they knowingly do a wrong thing, hoping that somehow they can talk their way out of itd) you only need to make ONE mistake to find your life go up in smoke.

    I admit Madhukar hasn’t done anything majorly wrong – after all hundreds of people cross the tracks every day. Most people who run across the tracks find it too tedious to use the FOBs ( Foot over bridge)  which are very often in poor condition, overcrowded or dirty. In fact I remember the time when Anna Shetty and her friends wanted to use the over-bridge at Ghatkopar Station, they were told to wait a while. When tasked why, they were told, “Gadhe aa rahe hai”. They were flummoxed by this response and couldn’t figure out what was happening till suddenly they found fifty donkeys clambering down the steps! 


    Apparently this was a daily occurrence when the donkeys crossed over from East to West.


    And if the donkeys were so concerned about their lives and actually climbed the steps why can’t we humans do so too? 

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