I miss my Irani chai

I do.

There are very few places in Pune that offer authentic Irani chai (tea) and they're rapidly having to sell out to Houses of Lights and Baristas and other big guys who pay them plenty of money to vacate their ancient, authentic timber-lined tea-houses in favour of glitzy, glamorous, monotonous places that make it clear you're sinning if you're just browsing.

Thing is, I'm not sure I miss the chai or the experience of the chai.

Kayani Restaurant, now the House of Lights, at Sarbatwala Chowk, Pune, was a prime example of what I mean.

Actually, the chai itself didn't draw me there. It was Ismael.

He was the waiter. And Ismael, the waiter, had standards. Regulars we greeted with loving abuse. Newcomers were ignored.

It took me a long while to get Ismael to call me a "baster". Although he did suffix it with "Chairman" in deference to my ability to control the motley crew of us who hotly debated the latest art endeavour over our endless cups of Irani chai.

"Baster Chairman aa gaya. Pundhrah cup chai tayaar kar" (The bastard Chairman has arrived. Get 15 cups of tea ready), he'd chant upon seeing me.

As a business model it was exquisite. Create an exclusive class of customers who enjoy whatever form of exclusivity you bestow upon them. I am convinced that Kay's, as we called it, thrived because we spent so much on chai just to get in Ismael's good books.

But all things come to an end. Not just all good things, ALL THINGS.

Kay's is gone forever, replaced by a glitzy House of Lights that's doing a roaring business supplying light fixtures to the nouveau riche.

I meet Ismael sometimes, surviving on the guilty largesse of past customers who remember his acerbic wit and wily grasp of customer relations.

He spends his days looking for old customers he can touch for a tenner. He spends his nights beneath the staircase of an old building owned by a kindly Parsi gentleman.

The owners of Kay's are happy, having traded their traditionally selected spot for pots of cash. Consumers are happy, with convenient locations providing the latest glamour accessory.

But Ismael is looking for people he used to serve in order to make his employer richer, to survive another day.

And I miss my Irani chai.

Deepak