Mumbai Breakfasts.
Invisible class lines are visible at this street-side idli joint everyday.
The deodarant Class - middle class office goers, students, etc. always eat close to the counter. The shop assistants types take their plates and eat silently a little away from them. The khakhi clad auto-rickshaw drivers stand or sit a little further away. And the most loyal customer at this place, the swachch Bharat safai karamachari (or the poetic in Kannada - Pourakarmika) always sits or stands in a Pluto orbit, almost a planet but treated like a nameless Kuiper belt citizen.
My blogger friend, Suranga Date (blog: Strewn Ashes) who saw this photograph when I posted it on Facebook has this to say:
On being an Idli in Navi Mumbai.
She sits,
HRH Idli,
always in white
along side the
chutney sambaar-in-waiting,
and watches her future unfold.
Some junta level types,
mechanically
breaking her to pieces,
pushing her around
in between
world matters
discussed
after a hurried exit
sitting for hours
in a rattling bus.
Some ,
slightly higher class,
helplessly
taking a quick bite
between carburettor roars
and
"mulgi shikli, pragati jhali",
watching the time,
enjoying the
unusual empty space around.
And some,
supremely high class,
on their first break,
after
cooking and cleaning,
first for their home,
then for other homes,
and the Idli
simply basks
in the avid delight,
of being
finally treated
as she should always be.
Chappals removed,
hands washed,
and sitting down,
enjoying the taste,
and just wondering,
if Mr Chai might follow,
cuttingly..
