Our dejection out of the realization
that Mr. Ruskin Bond has stopped seeing people as we had tried our best to meet
him there at his residence and were not given an entry, needed to be diluted
somewhere somehow, any how.
Further the unexpected trail of water of much hyped Kempty
Falls, though it looked nice from the farthest corner, was rather a
disappointment, as we neared the place. We being good foodies, all our negative
feelings generally turn positive if we get some good food at the prices we can
afford. Out on a trip, no one really considered bread-banana-boiled eggs as
good food.
Fact that we already had a complimentary and sumptuous breakfast at
the hotel we had been staying. Still, with back to back two shocks we looked
for good food. It was hot near Kempty falls and we all were more thirsty than
hungry with eighty meters walk to the deepest point of the falls and fro. A
water-amusement park has been set up there for the people to enjoy with the
natural source of water. We were not ready for taking a bath there which is
much in practice. We had convinced ourselves that in the post Covid 19
situation it would not have been a wise act. We were trying to focus on our
hunger and thirst to soothe it all. The soda shikanji in bottles capped with
marbles priced at rupees forty each was a real relief.
Last day, the driver Ravindar had
suggested us that there is place at Landour which is famous for its sandwiches
and pizzas. The best pizzas in Kolkata we have are from the Dominos and the
best sandwich I ever had was from Barista once. For each the cost was no less
than one thousand five hundred for three.
As per the suggestion of Ravindar, we
fixed our next destination from Mr. Bond’s house to Laal Tibba (The Red Peak) where
food was calling us and we were all hungry by then. It was 12:30pm. And we had
finished our breakfast at 9:30am. During our journey to Laal Tibba, another
corner of Landour, we had been discussing that even this might be another
disappointment and our agreement of payment to Ravindar, namely, five thousand
rupees was all down to drain.
Unexpectedly, this place clicked. After
crossing over a bottleneck at a hair-pin bend traffic jam (it reminded me of a Bengali
prose by Sayed Mujtaba Ali, that how terrible it can be in the hills), we
managed to reach there. It was a cool place in Friday afternoon. Not
many people were there. It was just like some roadside cafeteria with the crowd
of very low density. On the rooftop there is a huge binocular of almost two
feet long, through which a blurred projected view of the flip side hills could only
be seen. I had a tough time to focus on through it and understand what exactly
I was viewing. .
Before we reached the sun-flushed roof
top on the second floor of the cafeteria, orders were placed at the entrance: a
chicken sandwich and a medium chicken pizza with two cold coffees and a brownie
with vanilla ice-cream. That was for lunch for three of us. We had been
wondering if that would satiate our hunger.
We looked for some shade on the first
floor because though the sun was comfortable but taking it for more than ten minutes
gave us a burning feeling. By the time we talked about the failure of the
entire morning against the money spent for the car-hire. And we still ran the
risk of failing in this venture, too. The way people talked about the Kempty
Falls, it seemed to be great and grand. But it was nowhere even close to what
we had expected. We also expected that we shall be able to meet Mr. Bond if we
travel to his far-off home. But all was into the soup. Now we are jovial enough
to expect another blow.
A heavy blow it was, but on the
contrary, thankfully. I had never seen a pan pizza with so much of topping. And
I had never seen such a gigantic sandwich in my life with so much of cheese
burst. With the touch up of oregano and chilly-flakes to each, when we had the
first bite of both, one by one, it felt like Gods in heaven perhaps are served
these from their celestial kitchen. The sips on the cold coffee felt like the
elixir of life.
Cheesy things lose their tastes if they
are left to cool. So we literally gorged them up all. Perhaps it had taken more time
to cook the food than we had them all. And to quote from the famous “Lion King”
dialogue of Pumba, “Am feeling like a pig”, though we were not ones. Finally
when we were having a tough time to balance ourselves on our legs due to
overeating, the bill came and to our wonder we found that for what we had till
our digestive pipe spilling had cost us around eleven hundred of rupees.
Our jaws were about to drop and touch the tables
in surprise and happiness that at least something clicked since morning and
seemed worth visiting.
We headed towards another not-to-miss
food joint, Landour Bakehouse.
(Part II: Next Week)
Arya Chatterjee
