Lunching under the stars.....

We lunched under the stars. (It's possible).

With a star .

I think bloggers get a 7 month itch. They have to meet. And eat. Last time it was December. And this time we beat the Bharat Bandh (recently announced opposition sponsored nationwide total strike) by 2 days. Which is good, because we had folks coming in all the way from Indore and Pune, and they need to get back home safely.

We've never met in such an upmarket place before.

I started out early, with visions of rain, bad roads, traffic, and water logging, none of which had happened by then, and I ended up reaching much before time.

There was this beeping entrance thing through which you walk and they check if you are carrying dangerous things. My stupidity or patriotism must have shone brightly on my face, because as I ventured to pass through the contraption, two guys hurriedly signalled that I needn't, and that I could simply make a normal entrance. I found myself sitting in solitary splendour in the deserted lobby of this four star hotel, half and hour early, with fellows in suits and ladies in chic sarees giving me looks as they bustled around. The only excitement was provided by a young girl who looked she just stepped out of Femina, with a really short denim miniskirt, silver gladiator sandals, carefully arranged tousled hair, a fancy phone and a desperate expression on her face as she paced back and forth .

Couldnt be a blogger ....

I had this book about Zebras and Ulcers , some ongoing reading, that I had brought along just in case I had to wait, but it didn't fit in with the overall ethos of an impending lunch, and I gave up. Made some calls to bloggers. And settled down to wait for folks.

Like the retired one who suggested this place.


Followed by someone who normally used to come with luggage to catch a bus later to places 200 kms away, except this time he was staying.

The professorin, and the lady lawyer, all slim and svelte , arrived shortly.

Followed by our marathon person. I always watch with interest when folks arrive with heavily laden bags.

The 2 out of towners arrived next.

One of our group , was not going to make it this time. But we would call her between the salad and the dessert .

There were to be three new people this time. Two young ladies, who had heard about these meets and were delighted to join, and a young chap, who probably reads more blogs per week, than all the rest of the bloggers combined, and also has a blog of his own, besides twittering.

The young chap soon arrived, and was immediately put to a test of figuring out who was who. He knew a couple of us, and it was fun watching him mistakenly identifying folks as someone else.

In the meanwhile, the rains had started in earnest, and we worried about the whereabouts of the two new young ladies who were coming from some distance away, almost as if from another town. Took some time off to call our blogger friend who had been unable to come, and everyone spoke to her.

When so many blogger types converge around a buffet, filling plates with single minded devotion in between dedicating themselves to Pani Puri and Amiri Khaman, the other customers just stay away for a while. You never know when someone with Chilly Paneer may turn around and collide with you and crush the Farmers Pie in your plate, or spill some Dal Fry.

We kept looking at everyone who entered the place. This seems to be a permanent feature of all our blog lunches. Some people get lost and arrive later.

We were finally rewarded with the sight of two new members, none of whom we had met before. (a few folks had.) And with them came the littlest surprise member of the blog lunch, like a fresh ray of early sunlight in a dull and rainy cloudy day.

He was promptly established at the head of the table, and he proved to be a role model to certain gluttonous folks, by having a lunch of tomato slices, cucumber slices, carrots, a bit of rice, watermelon pieces, and would you believe, just a pinch (and what a small pinch of a small hand it was) of chocolate pastry , exhaustively licked off his own index finger!

A large group means there are conversation pockets. Everyone cannot talk to everyone all the time. But there's technology to the rescue.

Because, secretly unknown to us, the outside world was slowly being informed of things happening in the bloggers lunch. (I must hasten to add that we dont know Shashi Tharoor or Sweat Equity. All we know is Khana Zaroor and Net Activity)

In a terribly hi tech way, by a phone as follows :


"The blockers meet ! "

"I mean...the bloggers meet..."

"Desserts sink in with no trace !"

"In the midst of blogger babble and excitement! "

"The best things in life are edible."

And then after sufficient eating ......

"Bill payment ! Time flies.."

"The blogger meet ends.. Just about !"

"Do you have extra fifties please ? Small change comes in big time handy ! "

"Photo sessions done !"

"Bloggers meet disperses"

"Wonderful conversations in the bloggers meet. Can't believe this was the 5th meet !"

And I thought this person was a bit quiet and looking down at his phone, as a way of surreptiously guarding a big bag carrying several great containers of marathon-special payasam, kept under the table at his feet.......

One of the young ladies got a call from family folks coming to pick her up, and she came around with some wonderful packets of teekha sev for us, a speciality of the place she lives in; and this had been carefully carried around from place to place as she travelled the entire previous week across two states and several cities.

The tangy and spicy was followed by the sweet and creamy, and we were all suddenly recipients of wonderful containers of payasam, prepared for us and carried to the lunch by the marathon man, of course, inspired by his wife.


Several photographs were taken, some of which would probably delight toothpaste companies as wonderful ads for teeth. The staff at the place was so impressed that they took some photos for us.

A wonderful curved staircase , like in the movies, had some of us posing holding the banisters, while the others congregated on various steps. Most other hotel guests had long since given up on us, though I thought we were being greatly courteous allowing them to pass down the stairs.




Fortified by some totally unnecessary trips to the buffet, and with a sense of wellbeing , imagining a rainy afternoon with tekha sev and payasam, to be followed, in our imagination by adrak/ginger tea, we relaxed, leaning a bit back in our chairs, and were rewarded with the sight of a dark sky studded with stars, on the ceiling.

Some clever lighting , that.

Outside, the rain was pouring down. Forays into traffic beckoned. Waterlogged roads, Splashing. Folks going in the same direction decided to travel together, and so many of us got rides home from those going to those areas. It was almost peak traffic time, with folks driving in a frenzy, avoiding potholes, cursing darting ricksahws and pedestrians suddenly trying to cross the road, and pizza delivery chaps taking inverse U-turns.

It didn't really matter.

We had met after a long time....We had had a wonderful Bloggers lunch.

A great afternoon , with lots of laughs, ribbing,food and friends.....

Under the stars.

And with a young star.

Possibly a future blogger learning the ropes .

And he is just two years old !!!!


P. S. One of the new lunch members burst into verse on gmail later.....:-)

Jo kal tak bas ek naam the, unhe chehre ki aaj pehchaan mil gayi

Khayalon se hum jud gaye is tarah, ek anokhi si dosti ki shuruwat ho gayi

Wah ! Wah ! Wah !

Swinging times, blogging times

Nestled as I am in one of the most wooded areas, meeting my blogger friends for a lunch, in a campus greened by the monsoon, appeared to be a great idea. Except as soon as we agreed on a date in September, the rains started to play truant.

But the area is still greener and calmer than the chaos outside, with plenty of parking and no tow trucks making rounds . There was also no danger of having to leap over road dividers , or suddenly taking off on shopping sprees post-lunch.

And so they met. Five of them , for real, and one of them, virtually.

The virtual one was usually the instigator of these lunches. Nudging comments about how it's been a long time since the last meet. He travelled the most for these lunches, often arriving for it with his luggage, and then catching a bus post-lunch to his house 200 kilometres away. This time , a week before the lunch , he called, citing scheduling problems. Timing changes weren't the solution.

What he would miss this time was a new member joining us for the lunch. A lady we all read and admire, and feel we already know. This time we would put a face to the thoughts.

And then there were the usual suspects.

One who has made these blogging meals an international thing.

Another , who came straight from teaching at college on a Saturday morning, is a kind of soul-sister-in-bus-travel; she walked down a shade-dappled road lined with palm trees, her face creasing into a big smile as soon as she sighted the older one squinting against the noon day searing sun.

The new member drove in. We had never met her in person. But the car kind of hesitated at the gate , turning in. We couldn't see a thing through the tinted glass. But we were sure it was her.

And she emerged, smiling at us, deciding to herself, who was who. Certain last names in India often mean certain typical features, particularly in the color of the eyes. And she wasn't wrong.

Very soon the eldest arrived, sporting a new jazzy family car. Granddaughters dictate choices and grandfathers quietly agree.

In the short time that these four met, non stop conversation and exclamations over knowing common people could be clearly heard.

The last one, may possibly be the youngest, and he succeeds admirably in being an enigma. He lives the closest, but is often involved in secret pursuits of the running kind. Which is to be admired given the deplorable condition of the roads in this area.

One suspects that he runs with his camera, and never with his phone. And you get to see some amazing observations on his blog. Rumour has it that he is preparing to run the marathon , and Saturdays are practice days. He drove in last, and folks say he would have possibly been a couple of kilograms lighter had he not possibly gorged on some excellent idlis and sambar prepared by his wife in the morning, before the run.

They had just settled down at their table, when the virtual blogger called. Imagine the scene. Lunchtime on the green outskirts of Pune. A husband working in Mumbai during the week is home on a Saturday, and his wife has made his favourite stuff, and they are about to start a meal.

Suddenly, he notices the time, whips out his cell phone, and makes a call. He wishes he could have been there. They all take turns talking to him. His spouse shakes her head. All this blogging is getting too much. Write all you want . Comment. Why eat with them ? The Almighty obliges her. There are network problems and the call gets terminated.

It feels like everyone has grown up a bit. Not that there is much left to grow for at least some of us, but the younger ones appear quieter this time. Less leg pulling. Maybe its the heat. Maybe they are hungry. They've even turned vegetarian.

The place is roomy. Lots of space between tables. You can get up, turn and nobody's mushroom masala gets flipped on the neighbor's lap. They order a basket of parathas and a few veggies and raita. Its hot, fresh of the griddle, and good. They have come just before the rush begins, and have the undivided attention of the serving staff.

I watch. Someone famous walks by. Some magazine has declared him one of the 50 powerful folks in IT industry in India. I have known him in our respective younger days, and he is delighted to know that we are having a bloggers meet. He is introduced to all. I mention the 50-powerful stuff. He just waves it off. Maybe sometime in the future, when lunches are passe, we have bloggers fruit meets, and the youngest ones is done with his marathons, we can look at a picture in the paper, and say, "Oh yeah, we know him ! The Bloggers lunch !"....

One of them is wearing a Tee that says "Guess" . Its not clear what. Then he whips out 5 packages from somewhere. Wonderful classics . One for each of us. Some of us have read them in school. Our children would enjoy these evergreen books.

We take some photographs. On campus, these kind of spontaneous activities are seen amidst students, sometimes, at the lunch place. Folks are amused to see us grownups ,moving around, taking pictures, changing places to bring a much needed symmetry to too much weight on one side. Some innocent folks at other tables are cajoled into taking a picture of all of us. It helps that there is plenty of space to move, and we are not in danger of dashing into the waiter arriving with vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce.

We shortly leave, and take a short walk near the lake. A great lake breeze blows in, amidst the construction rubble that stands destroying the beauty of the place. There is a fountain on one side in the midst of an artificial lake. On the other side, a huge lake, the afternoon sun glinting on the surface.

Its time to turn back. I thought all that greenery and water would give a sense of calm. It did, Till we reached a huge banyan tree , which was probably there originally before we became a campus.

I could see a pair or arms kind of itching to perform . And it had to be the youngest one.

The first lunch had the two youngest devouring an icecream with great relish. The second time we went, the french fries almost had some people in trouble. This time things appeared unusually subdued. There was less leg pulling. Less teasing . Less guffawing. Maybe the youngsters were growing up. Hmm.


I guess some people never change. That tree was too good a thing to bypass. You don't see too many such trees around these days. In Mumbai.

But this was a sight for sore eyes. Those banyan tree hanging roots were so inviting.

Corporate fitness marathon types finally becoming the swinging type. ADA***, you have competition.

We oldies need to look out. Its the age of the Swinging Blogger....


*** Anil Dhirubhai Ambani, India's answer to Bill Gates, Warren Buffet etc. Except thatthis guy is a fitness fiend, and runs the marathon every year.

Thought for food.....

You never know where pictures posted on blogs may lead you.

From his blog he appears to be someone who likes to announce it to the world when he has enjoyed something. Be it a play, a garden, a person, sometimes even a particular dish. He always posts the relevant graphics. With a pithy comment. He posted one such mouth watering graphic, about a sizzler dish, that was cooked over a weekend in Pune , and almost immediately in Mumbai, several eyes widened, and minds buzzed with the prospect of a lunch. He'd been actually hinting that a bloggers' lunch was long overdue, and now that I look back, I can see his master strategy in making it all happen.......

And so the five of them met again. For sizzlers.

One , who delayed his weekend trip to his family in Pune by a day, and arrived at the lunch with his luggage.

Another , who left her two princesses at home, and braved the Mumbai public transport to travel a long way , to meet folks she had seen only once; of course the long ride was utilised two study the Mumbai election supervisors manual, which she needed for her assigned duties as an election officer around the month end; and never mind that she almost used her red pen to tick off grammatical mistakes, and deadly imperatives as her bus kept her awake bouncing through the potholes.

Another , probably looked upon this as a great way to escape anxieties and formalities associated with career and life stages; a couple of hours away from it all, with lots of laughs, and conversation, and missing cell phone contact numbers. Technology has advanced, but not so far as to have a robotic voice warn you that you are carrying the wrong phone.

Of course, there was also one who cannot resist carrying tote bags, in anticipation of meeting in a Mall type environment. She stayed the closest, and came by a three wheeler, whose driver was a bit upset about the fare remaining in single digits, despite him revving up the accelerator and making darting stops here and there, trying to overtake an open truck carrying huge boulders. But he had a nice look at her bandaged hand, and decided not to show his displeasure to someone who was already hurting (!)....

And finally, there is this guy who is probably the fittest of the lot. Lives fairly close by. He has been off rice recently, twitters occasionally when he hits the gym, and for a while one thought that he was going to arrive , say, jogging , since the mid-day sun was today being occasionally snubbed by a few clouds doing their thing.

The place had all these columns, balconies, and balustrades, where you could stand and watch the hoi-polloi traipsing by, and there was a suggestion that the four of them stand there, waiting for the fittest fifth. They would all applaud and wave at him as he came puffing by, and everyone, including the general public would have a great time. Then someone mentioned his camera. You'd never know when he clicked. And the next thing , all four would appear on his blog waving to no one in particular, a la folks in Buckingham Palace. The waving plan was hastily abandoned, and we proceeded to the sizzler place , where we would meet him in a short while.

The place is a branch of a well known sizzler restaurant. But we were unfashionably early. And the staff was suitably startled by a bunch of middle and senior citizen types arriving with luggage, pickles, several tote bags, election manuals and the works. A bit of a change for a place which has raucous fashionable young peoples groups, fellows calling themselves "dudes" having late lunches. The staff was so smitten they forgot to switch on the AC.

By and by , folks recovered. The staff, that is. Menus were perused. Lips, pursed on noticing the outrageous prices, relaxed on realizing that sizzler meals were not likely to be getting the government's special attention, as a possible sop during election time. And the country was not yet ready for the stimulating policies of Kevin Rudd. (Hi Lilly!)...

The stuff arrived, one sizzling plate at a time, suitably obscuring everyone's vision with the sizzling vapour, and fogging the spectacles of two oldies and one of the younger fittest.....And ice arrived in irregular shapes, to fog the water glassses, so necessary in the Mumbai summer......

Five sizzling dishes later, it has occurred to me, that there can be smoke of different types.

There are some smokes that need a fire at one end and a fool at the other. These harm.

Then there are some smokes that happen because of a little water sprinkled on a heap of delicious pasta/rice and veggies sizzling on a hot iron serving skillet. These are great.

Lots of laughs and good conversation and ribbing amidst flavoured steam rising from sizzling cutlets, green beans, rice, lightly heat-scarred cabbage,cauliflower,tomatoes, and the eternal favourite, french-fries. The fittest one was secretly noticed smiling to himself over the french fries, after he publicly opted for pasta after his recent anti-rice blog, read by the world.

Folks went home , mostly all having overeaten. One went off with another to catch a transport to Pune, discussing technicalities of retirement. Another went off, seriously calculating the number of years he would have to swear off his wife's delicious rice and sambhar, now that he had this sizzling forbidden meal. The two ladies, wandered off to look at some nice shops, and do some shopping. The country doesn't believe in stimulus payments . But still we spend. Amazing, isn't it ?

We have really all met only once. In December. Except for those who work in the same organization , we hardly talk, even on the phone. In real life.

But thanks to our black and white , electronic life, it feels like we meet often. We share in everyone's ups and downs. We sense things unwritten in blogs, because we can now visualize the persona.

Its a great way to be friends.