IT IS ALL ABOUT AMBIENCE
When Murali goes on a tour I normally hole up at home with the remote all to myself. But that also is rationed because I shut the TV by 9 pm and get tucked in to chat with friends in foreign shores, it being their daytime. There are some friends here too, who are owlish by nature and sleep late and so I catch up with them also.
This is also the time to have a face to face with others, singly and not feeling rattled that I have left the husband at home. Not that he minds, but all the same. And so Press Club it was after a long time. Normally Amar Devulapally and/or VJM Divakar are my companions on these visits. This time it was my pleasure to be with both of them.
It is a treat to be with the boys and both are romantic by nature and can wax eloquent, especially Divakar, whose knowledge of music both Indian classical (Hindustani and Carnatic) and film music is incomparable. The little tid bits that he shares are great listening material.
While Amar has a phenomenal recall of dates and events and photographic memory of how any event shaped up, his constant travels adds to his story telling abilities.
I have known and travelled with these guys to several places and it has always been a revelation. While Amar is the ultimate organiser, Divakar is great at picking the right song for the moment.
The PC has its own ambience. And can definitely be given a maramat so that it is more presentable, but I seriously do not want family members visiting it more often and playing tambola. I find it quite the sanctuary for myself and have spent a quiet evening or two on my own.
While many women colleagues feel the PC is not the conducive place to socialise, bar bar aao to jaano. Bring your own journalist friend, for I sneakily agree that it can be quite the shock to oursiders when they see the state of affairs at the Hyderabad PC. I have no complaints, but I am saying. Apart from a reasonable bar bill, the snacks are delish and I am only talking of the three vegetarian items. The non veg items are lip smacking is what I have been told.
Gaane ka mukhda aur khabar and in that order is a heady combination and I had a blast.
The next day Akhila, a friend I often refer to, said that she wanted buttons for two sweaters she had knitted. While I swooned in sheer envy at her ability, I suggested a visit to General Bazaar, that treasure trove of hole-in-the-wall shops, where you could find a needle to a frying pan.
Once it was a great solace to go there to solve any issues which were house related. And while retail therapy is always good for health, a trip to General Bazaar used to be a mood uplifter, because you pick up so much of junk and it takes time to sort out.
But the ambience is no more there. That man who sold huge bunches of corriander and mint leaves is not there, but could be because it is hot summer. Many of the old haunts are still there, but dusty and tired. Near the entrance was a chap who sold kachcha aam in all seasons, with the salt and chilly powder. Then there used to be a crockery shop with a constant sale and sometimes you found decent enough stuff.
There are these guys standing outside the shops and crying out their wares. They look you up and down and say 'aap ka size bhi mil jaayega'.
All those chappal shops, selling slivers of faux leather in colours and designs attracting young girls, who come, strap on the heels and walk out. Definitely affordable but after the online bonanza, these shops look boring.
The disappointment was all the button shops. After zips and velcro and elastic no one wants the poor buttons or a needle or thread. The shop fellow kept saying 'aap jaise koyin nahin raha... ' and I just felt glad that I was included. In the overall praise.
This is also the time to have a face to face with others, singly and not feeling rattled that I have left the husband at home. Not that he minds, but all the same. And so Press Club it was after a long time. Normally Amar Devulapally and/or VJM Divakar are my companions on these visits. This time it was my pleasure to be with both of them.
It is a treat to be with the boys and both are romantic by nature and can wax eloquent, especially Divakar, whose knowledge of music both Indian classical (Hindustani and Carnatic) and film music is incomparable. The little tid bits that he shares are great listening material.
While Amar has a phenomenal recall of dates and events and photographic memory of how any event shaped up, his constant travels adds to his story telling abilities.
I have known and travelled with these guys to several places and it has always been a revelation. While Amar is the ultimate organiser, Divakar is great at picking the right song for the moment.
The PC has its own ambience. And can definitely be given a maramat so that it is more presentable, but I seriously do not want family members visiting it more often and playing tambola. I find it quite the sanctuary for myself and have spent a quiet evening or two on my own.
While many women colleagues feel the PC is not the conducive place to socialise, bar bar aao to jaano. Bring your own journalist friend, for I sneakily agree that it can be quite the shock to oursiders when they see the state of affairs at the Hyderabad PC. I have no complaints, but I am saying. Apart from a reasonable bar bill, the snacks are delish and I am only talking of the three vegetarian items. The non veg items are lip smacking is what I have been told.
Gaane ka mukhda aur khabar and in that order is a heady combination and I had a blast.
The next day Akhila, a friend I often refer to, said that she wanted buttons for two sweaters she had knitted. While I swooned in sheer envy at her ability, I suggested a visit to General Bazaar, that treasure trove of hole-in-the-wall shops, where you could find a needle to a frying pan.
Once it was a great solace to go there to solve any issues which were house related. And while retail therapy is always good for health, a trip to General Bazaar used to be a mood uplifter, because you pick up so much of junk and it takes time to sort out.
But the ambience is no more there. That man who sold huge bunches of corriander and mint leaves is not there, but could be because it is hot summer. Many of the old haunts are still there, but dusty and tired. Near the entrance was a chap who sold kachcha aam in all seasons, with the salt and chilly powder. Then there used to be a crockery shop with a constant sale and sometimes you found decent enough stuff.
There are these guys standing outside the shops and crying out their wares. They look you up and down and say 'aap ka size bhi mil jaayega'.
All those chappal shops, selling slivers of faux leather in colours and designs attracting young girls, who come, strap on the heels and walk out. Definitely affordable but after the online bonanza, these shops look boring.
The disappointment was all the button shops. After zips and velcro and elastic no one wants the poor buttons or a needle or thread. The shop fellow kept saying 'aap jaise koyin nahin raha... ' and I just felt glad that I was included. In the overall praise.
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