Though how going there would have proved anything I did not know, but it was an opportunity to test out my new car.
More about Allahabad in a bit. She wanted Gulab Jamuns on Saturday morning.
Gal was dressed to kill at 9 in the morning. A bright yellow, off-shoulder top with swan-white, tight, knee-length Capri and those six inch heels. Her wet-look, shoulder length hair were framing those sparkling, naughty eyes very well. I was still in my boxers trying to wake up, when she walked in like the winter morning sun peeping through a sheet of early fog and announced that we are going out to have Gulab Jamuns.
‘There must be some sweets in the fridge’
‘No. We are going out. Get dressed fast’. It was kind of final.
In fifteen minutes we were out in my car. She had even packed some sandwiches. I was intrigued by this Gulab Jamun expedition, but kept quiet.
‘Go towards Wave cinema and take the Delhi highway’
‘But where are we going?’
‘You’ll see’
The drive on NH24 was not bad. The traffic was not heavy and I enjoyed the drive in my new Civic AT. Deep mango groves on both sides soon gave way to raked empty fields like well combed, oiled, and neatly parted hair. After about an hour I realized that we must have come some 80-90 kilometers out and asked her where were we headed?
‘I think its another 50 odd kilometers. Better to stop and ask for Megalganj’
‘Megalganj? What’s that?’
I stopped us for a cup of tea and re-confirmed what she always knew. It was another half an hour away. We took off immediately and reached Megalganj cross-road at around 11.30. You couldn’t have missed it. Like all highway towns, this one too has typically about twenty odd eating places, some more shacks selling cigarettes and a few selling music cassettes and CDs. The stark difference however was that all the eating joints were Gulab Jamun shops.
Amazing! I had never seen such concentration of shops nor so many highway tourists focused on eating Gulab Jamuns.
There is one shop which claims to be making these GJs since 1940. I wondered what the place was like back then. Anyway we ate a hell of a lot of Gulab Jamuns. They are delicious and definitely worth the drive. You are supposed to drink some milk to wash it down.
I wanted to carry some back. Gal shook her head.
‘These can’t be carried back. Eat more if you want’
As we got back into the car, I asked, ‘What’s this about not carrying them back?’
‘These are special to Megalganj and are made out of potatoes. So they loose their texture and taste once they go cold’
‘It’s quite a long way to travel for Saturday morning potatoes’.
Next day we left early for Allahabad, our wager beckoned. It’s about a four hour drive from Lucknow. We stopped on the way at Rae Bareily for breakfast. The Naresh-Dinesh Restaurent is quite famous for the various people of Gandhi family who have stopped there over the past twenty years. Even though the best-selling stuff is Bread-Pakora, I just had a thick Lassi. Gal ordered a Gujarati Dhokla.
We reached Allahabad at around noon and went straight to Hotel Milan. It has a great chef for Indian food. After a brief siesta, we were off to Zero Road to complete our wager. There is
indeed a street called Zero Road. It’s an old, narrow street made of concrete and crammed with rickshaws and bicycles.
‘See’ I stepped out of the car and raised my hand to point out the road sign that said, Zero Road. Before leaving the hotel we had asked some locals, they all believed that Zero road was the time meridian. It was as we were wading back through the traffic that Gal exclaimed,
‘It’s parallel to the Railway station!’
‘So?’
‘You see, if it is on a Meridian it must be North-South, but the railway track in Allahabad is definitely East-West. Zero Road is parallel to the Station. I win. Q.E.D’
I was flabbergasted.
My dejected mood was lifted much later when we hit the bar in our hotel. It has one of the best laid-out bars in the entire region. It has a long circular bar-counter, with a well-stocked bar, a small dance-floor with a DJ too. Even has flashing lights to set the ambience. More so, was playing The Doors, would you believe it. We had a good time. Gal went a bit far when she asked the bartender for a glass of Merlot.
There is one shop which claims to be making these GJs since 1940. I wondered what the place was like back then. Anyway we ate a hell of a lot of Gulab Jamuns. They are delicious and definitely worth the drive. You are supposed to drink some milk to wash it down.
I wanted to carry some back. Gal shook her head.
‘These can’t be carried back. Eat more if you want’
As we got back into the car, I asked, ‘What’s this about not carrying them back?’
‘These are special to Megalganj and are made out of potatoes. So they loose their texture and taste once they go cold’
‘It’s quite a long way to travel for Saturday morning potatoes’.
Next day we left early for Allahabad, our wager beckoned. It’s about a four hour drive from Lucknow. We stopped on the way at Rae Bareily for breakfast. The Naresh-Dinesh Restaurent is quite famous for the various people of Gandhi family who have stopped there over the past twenty years. Even though the best-selling stuff is Bread-Pakora, I just had a thick Lassi. Gal ordered a Gujarati Dhokla.We reached Allahabad at around noon and went straight to Hotel Milan. It has a great chef for Indian food. After a brief siesta, we were off to Zero Road to complete our wager. There is
indeed a street called Zero Road. It’s an old, narrow street made of concrete and crammed with rickshaws and bicycles.‘See’ I stepped out of the car and raised my hand to point out the road sign that said, Zero Road. Before leaving the hotel we had asked some locals, they all believed that Zero road was the time meridian. It was as we were wading back through the traffic that Gal exclaimed,
‘It’s parallel to the Railway station!’
‘So?’
‘You see, if it is on a Meridian it must be North-South, but the railway track in Allahabad is definitely East-West. Zero Road is parallel to the Station. I win. Q.E.D’
I was flabbergasted.
My dejected mood was lifted much later when we hit the bar in our hotel. It has one of the best laid-out bars in the entire region. It has a long circular bar-counter, with a well-stocked bar, a small dance-floor with a DJ too. Even has flashing lights to set the ambience. More so, was playing The Doors, would you believe it. We had a good time. Gal went a bit far when she asked the bartender for a glass of Merlot.
As a community people of Allahabad used to have an attitude. It was like poor man’s Calcutta. Like the Bengalis, people here considered themselves cerebrally superior. In fact till about twenty years ago Indian Civil Services used to have a cadre-within-cadre of Allahabad University Alumni. Even today if you walk along the corridors of the University hostel you can see graffiti saying who all passed the IAS exam from which room. The attitude’s all gone now. It another small town of UP, though much more civilized.
Allahabad has another very unique distinction, the number of lawyers per head. There are Twenty thousand of them in a population of just over a million. Every eight household has an Advocate’s name board. Understandable, since Allahabad High Court has been one of our premier courts since nearly two centuries.
Next day morning we were off to the river. It is probably the most scenic sight that I’ll ever see. It’s a huge mass of water, of different hues. Yamuna is much deeper and is green, while the Ganges is relatively shallow and yellowish. We slowly rowed past the massive Akbar Fort. It’s an immaculate large structure well maintained because the Indian Army is using it.
As our flat bottom row-boat approached the Sangam there was so much energy flowing from the devotees that it was palpable. Boat loads of men and women mostly rural were chanting songs of the Ganges, the notes flowed like the river itself. Right at the point of Sangam about fifty boats
were anchored the scene could have been out of Kevin Costner’s Waterworld. It was the Bhajans with Dholaks and Manjiras emanating from there that reminded us of how life has been along this holy river since ages.
Both of us were quiet on the drive back and almost missed the silvery, shimmering, spanking new suspension bridge which connects the main town to Naini. It is Allahabad’s Golden Gate. We stopped over at the ‘Gora Kabrastan’, White Cemetery. This smallish place has real history buried here. You just need to go over the epitaphs to be transported back to our first war of independence.
Then we drove past the Chandrashekhar Azad Park, where he was killed. The Brit police was not sure he was dead and shot him in the leg to check. We were hungry and landed up at El Chico. This place has the distinction of being visited by so many dignitaries that you will lose count. It actually claims fame for continental food but Chinese is edible. It makes good chicken sandwiches too.
Finally we were ready to bid adieu to Allahabad only after buying a few boxes of ‘Khatta Samosa’. Don't leave Allahabad without them.
Allahabad has another very unique distinction, the number of lawyers per head. There are Twenty thousand of them in a population of just over a million. Every eight household has an Advocate’s name board. Understandable, since Allahabad High Court has been one of our premier courts since nearly two centuries.
Next day morning we were off to the river. It is probably the most scenic sight that I’ll ever see. It’s a huge mass of water, of different hues. Yamuna is much deeper and is green, while the Ganges is relatively shallow and yellowish. We slowly rowed past the massive Akbar Fort. It’s an immaculate large structure well maintained because the Indian Army is using it.
As our flat bottom row-boat approached the Sangam there was so much energy flowing from the devotees that it was palpable. Boat loads of men and women mostly rural were chanting songs of the Ganges, the notes flowed like the river itself. Right at the point of Sangam about fifty boats
were anchored the scene could have been out of Kevin Costner’s Waterworld. It was the Bhajans with Dholaks and Manjiras emanating from there that reminded us of how life has been along this holy river since ages.Both of us were quiet on the drive back and almost missed the silvery, shimmering, spanking new suspension bridge which connects the main town to Naini. It is Allahabad’s Golden Gate. We stopped over at the ‘Gora Kabrastan’, White Cemetery. This smallish place has real history buried here. You just need to go over the epitaphs to be transported back to our first war of independence.
Then we drove past the Chandrashekhar Azad Park, where he was killed. The Brit police was not sure he was dead and shot him in the leg to check. We were hungry and landed up at El Chico. This place has the distinction of being visited by so many dignitaries that you will lose count. It actually claims fame for continental food but Chinese is edible. It makes good chicken sandwiches too.
Finally we were ready to bid adieu to Allahabad only after buying a few boxes of ‘Khatta Samosa’. Don't leave Allahabad without them.
