Preservation of heritage need not confine only to old edifices but more importantly should include attires, customs, including food and other habits. The beauty of the country is of great diversity, and varying cultures and urban cities like Kolkata were always the melting pot of such variances.
An iconic ‘canteen’ operating from within the South India Club decided to change their character and adorn a swanky décor. The existing contractor failed to read the writing on the walls apparently not so clean, and the kitchen not so hygienic. Neither could they meet the increased rental bill and quietly decided to move out, uniquely characteristic of Tamils.
Restaurants, like ‘Pattiamma hotel,’ –grandmother’s hotel’ as translated in English and one of the oldest restaurants, renamed later as Ramakrishna Lunch Home was not just a restaurant alone. The matriarch of the family used to pulverise soaked rice sitting with her huge stone grinder and offer steaming hot idlis with Sambhar and Chutney as early as 6.30 am. There were a dozen South Indian restaurants around Lake Market and 8 or 10 even older ones in Central Kolkata.
Many unemployed youths used to arrive in Kolkata in the 60s and 70s and join the two typing institutes around Lake Market. Thanks to many ‘mamas,’ they could soon get a foothold as a typist in some private companies, but these restaurants used to give them food on credit on the mere verbal guarantee of one or another acquaintance or client. Monthly coupons were issued for Lunch and Dinner for Rs.15/- per month and a small one paisa increase per day once resulted in a strike by the soft-spoken and god fearing Tamils. The owners rescinded the price rise. Even one paisa had value then!
I have been visiting South India Club even as a child from the sixties and used to relish the ‘Rava Kesari and Puri Masala. The club shifted later to Hindustan Park, and I had eaten there too a few times. There could be better restaurants, swanky and air conditioned around. Dosa, Idly and Vada could have conquered the taste bud of the entire country, as we even tasted the food in the remotest corner of Kashmir last year. The South Indian fare compete with two-minute-noodles and momos, but ours are genuinely Indian.
Compassion is no more the ethos of India, which bulldozes its way to make the subjects fall in line. The club I guess may have tried and lost all the options before taking the draconian step of replacing mediocrity with pomposity. They could have even modernised the kitchen and recovered the costs over some time. If it is merely an air-conditioner and swanky chairs, I would prefer to visit Udipi Home and Ramakrishna Lunch Home.
Tamils are uniquely independent of other south Indians communities, but commonly labeled as Madarasis and are a vanishing tribe, with less than 5000 left in the city, which includes me. Save a few diehards like me, born and will die from here, most are moving southwards, either towards Brahmapur or the faraway Tamil Nadu. Kolkata has lost a unique flavour like the South India Club Canteen, and the dwindling Tamil population may not even feature in the front page of any newspaper like the Canteen articulated by my friend Subhro Niyogi.
Sampath Kumar
Intrépide Voix
