Irani cafe

I saw the play Irani Cafe at the NCPA Experimental Theatre in Bombay. The story was woven around three couples. Each of the males, a boxer, a sailor and a gangster, were in love with their partners and with other girls. It was quite interesting but a confusing play, with the occasional funny incident.

The location of the play was supposed to be in an Irani cafe but the name is a misnomer.

There was nothing Irani about the Irani Cafe except for a few cane chairs (which came originally from Czechoslovakia). I expected to see a hefty Irani in a black cap sitting on the galla (counter), ordering chai (tea) from the istand (kitchen) and ordering the barwallas (waiters) to serve the customers. In the play the only Irani atmosphere was infused by a seemingly patient customer who ordered chai and broon maska (crusted bread and butter) five times and instead was served a beer.

I wish someone would produce a play in which the real ambience of an Irani restaurant is brought out before the Irani ambience is lost forever. People have forgotten the art and joy of dipping a crusty broon maska into a hot cup of tea and eating it with an accompanying slurp. The hard crusty broon can only be found in Bombay and Poona where Iranis of Zoroastrian origin live and not in Delhi, Calcutta or Madras.

ZEND M. ZEND