Wanted: A tech savvy graduate 'Lady Housekeeper'

Seen in a classified page of a leading national dally was this job advertisement.

A working couple who have moved on to the outskirts of Delhi is looking for a warm and cheerful female housekeeper with at least 15 years experience.

The listed requirements for the job are

- Should be a graduate who knows to google

- Must be fussy about hygiene

- Know to hire and manage servants

- Enjoy shopping

- Can throw a party

- Willing to pamper grown up kids

- Can iron a shirt

- Manage home budget

- Loves cooking

- Enjoys house guest

- Have a great sense of humour

- Adept at opening a bottle of wine

- Handle an emergency

- Good health and fitness a pre-requisite

- Learn new skills

The job however comes with an 'excellent' pay and well appointed room in the family house.

Any takers?

Ponmudi: Kerala's Golden Crown

I sat happily humming to myself on my way to work in the morning as the pleasant breeze hit my face and rain splattered the roads all around.

For a change, I didn't even mind the pollution and traffic around me. It was this weather which reminded me of something and prompted me to get over my laziness and finally write after this long break.

The overcast sky, the soft drizzle and the rain kissed trees drifted my thoughts back to a few months when I was standing overlooking an expanse of mountains covered with a green blanket with the sky playing pranks on me.

On the one side of the sky was a full misty stretch overshadowing the plants and making the early morning look like late evening. On the other side was a brightly lit up sky generously sun bathing the plants.

61 kms away from Trivandrum, I was in this quaint little hill station called Ponmudi. Literally meaning a golden crown, Ponmudi was quite a breathtaking sight to behold.

Though just about a 1000 meter above sea level, it had all the ingredients of a typical tourist hub.



We planned this family gathering during our last visit to Trivandrum. Our group reached there after a pleasant one and a half hour drive from Trivandrum.

The signboard at the outset did say 21 hairpin bends but the drive was surprisingly comfortable.

I didn't even need to pop in my usual dose of Avomine to stop me throwing up! The beautiful Kerala countryside hardly gave me time to think of anything else.

The abundance of trees and flowers along with the lovely breeze kept me gazing out of the window of my car.

In between we also crossed the Kallar river which seemed very calm to me but I was warned that the same water gets quite wild at times.


As our destination grew nearer, my spirits were also perking up. And finally when we reached the government guest house where we were supposed to spend the next two days, I was elated.

Apart from the fact that the place looked cosy, I instantly fell in love with the area it overlooked.

To me, Ponmudi only meant the beautiful tea gardens, mountains, trees and flowers all seen from the guest house.

As the mist played hide and seek with the mountains, we kept standing there just gazing at the beauty around us.

Who could believe that we were just about 1000 meters above sea level and could still feast our eyes to something as incredible as this?

The weather-ah, the weather. It was the perfect weather to enjoy a holiday. Neither too cold to be confined to your quilts and nor too hot to flaunt your summer clothes collection.

While the Trivandrum people did start feeling cold in the evening, I and my husband were pleasantly reminded of the Delhi winter onset.


My first impressions of the guest house turned up to be perfect and the place was indeed very homely and comfortable.

The rooms, though not luxurious had all the required amenities. But the real surprise came when we went and peeped out from the huge balconies of each room.

With swift cool breeze blowing across, the balconies overlooked to a postcard kind of scenery. The mountains, blanketed by a deep emerald cover looked almost black as the mist started falling.

Just then slight drizzle started washing all the plants, trees and flowers with its pure water. Nature's bounty had completely me engulfed when I suddenly realised that I'm being called for lunch.


Running towards the lunch room, I saw my husband and his nephew busy taking a thousand snaps of God knows what. I went near thinking it must be a beautiful flower but to my horror discovered that it was actually a garden lizard!

Both the men were completely fascinated by how 'friendly' the lizard was. Well, being right in the nature's lap, the one day in Ponmudi did give the two many other opportunities to go on a photography spree.


My sea fish starved husband just couldn't stop raving about the fried fish served at the meal.

The fried chicken was also an instant hit with the non-veggies in our group as the ladies kept trying to find out the secret behind the perfectly fried chicken and fish.

As far as I was concerned, well I was busy gobbling down the sambhar rice with papad. After the stomach bloating lunch, it was siesta time but none seemed to be in a mood for it.

The gossip session carried on till evening when we finally decided to get out for a walk. The kids were excited to find a small garden with some swings and instantly freed themselves of their mother's grip and ran.


It was now that when it finally struck me that my mobile had not rang since I had arrived in Ponmudi. I took it out only to realise that though the screen flashed Airtel, the connection was actually not good enough to make or receive calls.

Wow, this was a complete holiday, away from the constantly ringing mobiles and the buzzing city! But people back in Delhi had to be informed so we marched to the only shop we could spot within the guest house.

A small provision cum stationary shop which had an STD booth but that was also shut! But the owner kindly offered to give us his mobile to make a call and we did so paying only a small amount.

As I was busy chatting away on the phone, my husband noticed packets of tea displayed. Merchiston tea powder, made from the tea leaves of the Ponmudi hills was available as black tea as well as normal tea.

We bought packets to sample of both and I must say that we thoroughly enjoyed having the lovely tea back in Delhi.

As the coastal people in our group started feeling quite cold, we decided it was time to retreat. Just as we settled back with blankets in our rooms, the menfolk silently slipped away.

They came back armed with a bottle of wine and informed us that they had chilled beer in the beer parlour of the guest house. It had started raining by then and I almost shivered to think of the chilled beer!

With the rain dropping the temperature further, we thoroughly enjoyed the sips of wine we got. Since we had our evening tea quite early, everyone was ravenous by dinner time.


I almost pounced on the fried rice. And the fried rice was probably the tastiest one I have ever eaten. The perfect blend of vegetables and rice, I thoroughly enjoyed having it with lots of papad and raita. The non-veggies were not disappointed at dinner time also.

Sleeping in a blanket in July almost sounded like a dream. But the thin yet warm blanket provided to us was perfect for the weather. When I think of the room now, I can still smell the dampness in the walls and the air.

The night was by no means silent. We could hear rain pouring throughout the night and the wind shaking our windows violently.

Even amidst all this, we had a lovely sleep and woke up late next morning only to be told that we had to rush and pack.

After a memorable day and night in the Golden Crown, we headed back home with a heart full of memories and a camera overflowing with pictures...

FOOD/SHOP GUIDE - Paan - oh! -Tales

Fancy owning an MF Husain painting and that too free of cost! Shiv Narayan Pandey proudly flaunts his photograph with the famous painter's work gifted to him by Husain himself. Well, who is SN Pandey?

The 85-year-old man is a paanwala, the owner of SN Pandey & Sons, one of the oldest paan shops in Connaught Place. Bang opposite the Shivaji Stadium MCDonald's, this little paan shop tucked away in a corner overflows with anecdotes.

Peer in the shop and you will find yourself staring into an array of black and white photographs lining the wall.

There are photos of all the political stalwarts of the country from the old timers like Dr Rajendra Prasad, Indira Gandhi to president APJ Abdul Kalam.

While some are posing with a young SN Pandey, the others are busy taking paan from him.

So, how does MF Husain's painting come here? "Husain always comes here for paan whenever he is in Delhi. I had once asked him for a painting of his and many years later he brought it and gave me saying I haven't forgotten my promise," says Pandey.

The young boy sitting along with the old man then offers me the speciality of the shop, a saada paan. "We have lots of variety like the banarasi paan, Madhuri and many more. There is no gutka in any of our paan, everything is pure," the enthusiastic chap tells me.

The paan legacy

Prod him a little and out come the old tales from the aging man's mouth. I feel as though i'm turning the chapters of an old book.

"In 1943, I bought six readymade paan for six paisa from Chawri Bazaar and sold them in this corner for double the cost. I continued this everyday till I collected Rs five. With this money, I slowly set up this shop.

I was very poor at that time and I started this business with the minimum money my father had given me," recounts Pandey.

Today, apart from the shop at CP's outer circle, SN Pandey has another paan shop in North Avenue which his elder son runs.

While the main shop is also run by his younger son, SN Pandey insists on coming to the shop for two to three hours a day.

"I come to the shop every day in the evening after eight. I feel happy to check if everything is going fine. I always teach my people to keep good original stuff."

SN Pandey's paan shop has its own share of historical moments. "Dr Rajendra Prasad was from Bihar so he used to like my paan very much.

Dr Zakir Hussain invited me for a Holi sammelan at Rashtrapati Bhavan where people were invited from all over the world.

Even foreigners got to taste our paan. Pandit Nehru always used to take paan from us when he would go to visit Liaquat Ali Khan in Pakistan," the old man recounts.

Just then another grey haired man pops up suddenly from somewhere and says, "I used to come to this shop as a little boy with my father when the paan used to cost 20 paisa. I am the third generation customer of this shop," Pavan Chadha told me gleefully chewing the paan.

"My office is nearby and even today I come here everyday for at least half an hour just to relax," says Chadha wiping his paan stained lips.

While all the first citizens have digged into Pandey's paan in Raisina Hills, our Bollywood stars too have some paan-oh!-tales with this shop.

"Our paan was served at Vyjayanthimala's wedding. Madhuri Dixit has been coming to our shop since she was a little girl. In fact Syed Jaffri has also sat here and made paan himself," Pandey tells me ecstatically showing off all the photographs.

Ramgarh: The Valley of Joy

We heard excitedly as the waiter said, "this is today's fresh juice and is made with the apricots plucked from the orchards of the village below." Saying this, he poured the thick, yellow liquid in our glasses.

Fascinated we were as we tasted the lovely juice sitting in the dining hall of the Neemrana Ramgarh Bungalows.

But then, everything about Ramgarh seemed fascinating. Be it the intoxicating silence of the hills, the chilly breeze, the red cheeked pahari children or the beautiful view, just about everything was so out of this world.

The road less travelled

Why Ramgarh? That seemed to be the question on everyone's mind as we were about to depart to the place. After all, we were travelling to Uttaranchal, a state which boasts of being home to some of the most popular hill stations like Nainital, Mussoorie, Almora, Ranikhet.

Well, the only thing that prompted us to make our trip to Ramgarh was the place where we chose to stay. In the photographs we got to see on the Neemrana website, the Ramgarh Bungalows looked like a fairyland. With the seemingly decades old bungalows atop the hills, the place really drew us.

Our journey was surely no fantasy drive. After waiting for one and a half hours on the Anand Vihar bus stand and sitting sweating in the bus for another half an hour, we finally dozed off with a resolve never to step into a Hina Travels bus.

However, when the bus finally started moving, the cool breeze from the window dried the sweat off our face.

Reaching Nainital on a hot June morning was no consolation. After walking almost half a kilometer with our luggage, we finally managed to get a taxi to go to Ramgarh for a price which didn't sound outrageous.

Even in the short 45 minute drive, I couldn't keep myself awake as the Avomine tablet kept lulling me back to sleep. My husband however thoroughly enjoyed the beauty of the unwinding roads up to Ramgarh.

Our retreat

6000 feet above sea level. This is what the little board stuck in front of our room said. A cosy den called English Bungalow was where we were supposed to spend our next two days.

We were already refreshed by now just by inhaling the fresh, unpolluted air of the mountains. And by the time our luggage was settled at the English Bungalow, we were engulfed by a magical feeling.

After all, we were few thousand feet above the scorching Delhi heat and away from the ever-honking cars ... magic it surely was. For us, landing in Ramgarh was like putting an emergency break on an accelerating vehicle.

Just to think that all we had to do at this place was enjoy the fresh breeze, eat and sleep seemed to drive away the all our blues. Supposed to be one of the oldest possessions of the Neemrana Ramgarh property, our room had a heritage feel about it.

The high wooden bed, the fire place and the high ceiling- everything seemingly belonged to another century.

After digging into a heavy breakfast of mouth watering poories subji, milk, cornflakes, eggs and fresh juice, we made ourselves comfortable in the two easy chairs kept right outside our rooms. As the chilly breeze caressed our faces, our mind and body felt miraculously at ease.

Sleeping at such a place felt like a crime. Considering the ambiance and weather, it felt as though we just had no right to waste a single second on sleeping.

So we decided to to look around the place and see the other bungalows. As the place slowly unveiled itself, we kept falling deeper and deeper in love. With British style bungalows built overlooking the hills, the place was truly a paradise.

Fortunately for us, all the rooms weren't occupied so we felt as though the whole place belonged to us. We made ourselves comfortable in two of the rocking chairs kept outside a suite. Red, green, violet, white ... our eyes were being feasted on the flowers of countless varieties.

The wall in the veranda was adorned with an array of butterflies and insects as we continued to cradle in the lap of nature. We found ourselves wondering how would life be living in a place like this?

At least as of now, the concrete structures didn't seem to have invaded the green blanket on the hills. Of course we knew that it wouldn't be the same a few years from now. Already, things are changing ... the beautiful land is being coveted by people from cities like Delhi who probably see a great future in this place.

"Yeh to dev bhoomi hai madam," was what one of the hotel workers told us when we told him that Ramgarh is one of the most beautiful places we had ever seen. Elated, he went on, insisting that this place is so good that's why in these hills are written so many of our ancient mythologies.

Room after room was examined by us, the curious couple from Delhi who seemed so awestruck by everything here.

My husband discovered a huge tree, overlooking a beautiful view of the valley, under which he said would be perfect to sit and meditate. And surprisingly, we did sit, closed our eyes and soaked ourselves in the glory of our surroundings.

The location was perfect and at the same time, we found ourselves marveling at the intelligence of the hoteliers. With the tagline 'Non-hotel Hotels', they somehow know exactly where this concept would work.

The supposedly 'British era' rooms were no luxurious suites. Taking cue from the antique structures of the rooms, the hotelier has customised the furniture accordingly.

So we found ourselves staring at a high wooden bed, antique chandeliers and a full wooden furniture at Ashok Vatika, one of the latest Neemrana Ramgarh Bungalow under construction.

The workers informed us that all this furniture and raw material is being especially purchased from Chandni Chowk in Delhi and some procured foreign countries.

That there is no cell phone network connectivity here except BSNL doesn't seem odd at this place and the absence of a computer at the reception didn't even strike us.

At Ramgarh, being close to nature almost came naturally without any extra effort. So when my husband suggested that we should take a small walk on the hills, I winced at the thought. How can we walk in the middle of the day? But miraculously we did and I found myself enjoying it, forgetting the the strain of the journey.

We returned, fresh and ready to gobble down the entire lunch spread out which included mutton, cabbage, paneer, dal, chapati, rice and the pahari raita made specially after my request ... bliss.

Blessed land

As we spent more and more hours at Ramgarh, we realised that the place is truly blessed, not just by the bounty of nature but also by the good hearted citizens. It was a pleasure talking to each and every person there, whether a part of the hotel or not.

Everyone seemed to have so much time to be polite, to stop and listen, to explain. Life was moving at its own pace here and the people there were in no hurry to speed it up.

So it was hardly surprising when we talked at length to an old lady here without realising that she is the mother of the person who owns this and the 10 other Neemrana properties.

Aman Nath's mother, addressed as mataji by the hotel staff came across as an unassuming, dignified old lady. Managing her 6-year-old granddaughter, the lady chatted away to glory with two people almost quarter of her age.

Never even for a minute was the conversation boring as mataji told us about the Neemrana hotels, the time when she, along with a friend of hers stayed at Ramgarh and stitched curtains for the rooms with their own hands.

And yet, even though she said she was 80 or more than that, there seemed to be no sign of fatigue. Yes, the body looked fragile but the enthusiastic spirit seemed ever active.

We were taken aback when standing in her small two room set in the hotel, she told us that she wishes to embark on a journey to the hills, to discover more about the interiors. Well, probably that's what keeps them going.

Nature's bounty

It was exciting to know that the jam and juice-making unit was located in this Neemrana property. Using the fresh fruits plucked from the Ramgarh village, the jams and juices, apparently were made without any preservatives.

A heady smell of apricots was tingling our noses as we were being guided to the jam making unit. Our guide stopped in front of a small room as we shot a questioning glance to him ... Surely, this room can't be where all the jams and juices of Neemrana are made? Well, apparently it was.

Astound, we looked around. The so called jam making unit consisted of a small area of total three rooms. One compact space, full of shelves was where all the jams and juices were kept lined up for storage. This room led to the main room, where all the preparation was done and finally a wash cum waste room.

We made ourselves comfortable on small stools looking at the jam making procedure. They finely cut the fruits, boiled its pulp with sugar to a certain temperature then poured them into the jam bottles, which were then covered with a layer of wax and let to cool.

It seemed unbelievably too simple to be true. Sensing our surprise, one of the jam makers scooped up some hot jam to a small plate and gave us to taste. Fancy eating a hot jam! But that hot jam indeed was yummy. Equally exciting was to taste the sweet, juicy apricots, fresh from the Ramgarh village orchards.

But days later, sitting in Delhi, as we munched on to those apricots we carried all the way from Ramgarh, the taste somehow seemed to have faded.

After travelling seven hours to Delhi amidst an air full of pollution, honking cars and the ever running city people, the apricots had lost its feel ... Well, we have to go back there again, to taste the fresh fruits, to inhale the fresh air, to taste the lovely fruits, and ... to meet the people.

It reminds me of our last moments in Ramgarh when our car prepared to move out of the hotel, we saw the whole staff, queued up with hands folded to see us off. We had left a family behind and we had to go back to visit them again. Our fairyland is calling us back.

FOOD GUIDE - Mosaic of Choice

Sometimes I wonder what Delhi would be without Connaught Place. Hard to imagine right? I've been in Delhi since I was born and I still haven't been able to discover this market which has seen the city evolve from a scratch.

Walking across the countless shops and restaurants lining the white walls of the inner and outer circle somehow always pumps up my spirits.

And just because we are so used to dining at the restaurants which have been there forever, there is hardly any attempt to try out new places.

But my husband decided to break the pattern and we headed to a two-month-old restaurant Mosaic.

The food court

I must say, the restaurateur knew what he was doing when he named the restaurant Mosaic. The mosaic of dishes served here are enough to make anyone's taste buds dance.

This place is a must visit for a first timer to India who wants to familiarize oneself with some of the most famous ethnic cuisines.

And for apna desis, well read on … Our Bengalis can dig into the Doi Maach, the Madrasi (sorry, couldn't help talking like a Dilliwalla) can relive the flavour of their Chettinad Chicken, the spice loving Andhraiites can treat themselves to Andhra fish curry … The list is endless.

And before I disappoint our Punjabis, Chicken Butter Masala is very much there on the menu. Dining here is a real culinary trip around the country.

For us, the menu was a breather from the typical shahi paneer and dal makhani stuff (though I must confess that I don't mind being served these two dishes anytime of the day!).

We were slightly disappointed when told that not every dish on the extensive menu can be prepared so it will be better to go for the buffet. We were little angry and not too excited at the prospect.

The waiters seemed to gauge our mood and immediately reassured us that we can order whatever we want. And here is where the problem began — it was a mammoth task to decide what we want to eat from the five, six pager menu.

For me, it was almost like reading a menu in a foreign language since I couldn't make out the difference between a Mochar Ghonto and a Dhokar Dalna.

Thankfully my husband was more enlightened than me and he settled for a Goshtaba, minced mutton balls cooked tender in gravy, served with a mushroom curry and rice.

The waiter came to my rescue and helped me zero down on Mirch Baigan Ka Salan. Yes, I am a brinjal fan and can experiment with any kind of baigan preparation.

Confusion over, it was our time to sit back and scan the place. Mosaic is a cosy restaurant built bang opposite Super Bazar just above a cloth shop.

It is the kind of place where you would want to come for a comfortable, sumptuous and a peaceful meal without any frills and fancy.

The staff is quite warm and helpful (at least till now). We sat comfortably near a window overlooking the bustling life of CP where people just seemed to be running not even walking.

I was quite happy, sitting aimlessly in a restaurant just getting pampered (of course it came at a price).

We didn't have to make our growling stomachs wait for long. I was soon digging into the spicy baingan and chana dal with butter naan.

My husband didn't even look at the vegetarian side as he happily devoured his Goshtaba. He informed me that the mutton was finely cooked and was blending very well with the gravy.

As far as I was concerned, despite the fact that my tongue was facing several spice burns, I was thoroughly enjoying my meal. The chana dal was delicious and the baingan was one of the best i've had in ages.

It was such a lovely desi meal that we were soon craving to hit our beds for an afternoon siesta.

By the time the desserts were served, my stomach was burning and I was yearning to soothe it. I am generally not very experimental when it comes to food but this time I decided to.

So I was keeping my fingers crossed as I put the first spoon into my chikoo mousse. But my apprehensions were sweetly put to rest as the fresh taste of creamy chikoo hit my tongue. My husband' s caramel custard didn't disappoint either.

In no time were our bowls emptied and we sat back and stretched ourselves. What a meal it was.

I was sure that looking at food again that day would be an impossible thought. Thankfully, the digits in our bill weren't shocking either.

As we walked down from Mosaic looking at the countless newspaper clippings stuck on the wall, I also felt like scribbling saying - Forget pizzas and burgers for a day and come here to taste the magic of real Indian cuisine.

GUEST COLUMN - The homely Spring fields of Shimla

By Swarup Kar Purkayastha

February 2002. As the cab drives through the narrow, winding roads of Shimla, to Springfields Hotel, it removes us from the hustle-bustle of the city and drifts one into a relatively peaceful realm. It is so easy to get lost as the place opens up and takes one in the warmth of its embrace.

Imposing hills climbing high to kiss the sky, even as blankets of dense, white clouds swim in its vast emptiness. The sun is trying to break through the grey, morning mist from behind the hills.

And yet it's not easy to get lost. The world, its smell, touches seep into the atmosphere as the city gets ready to wake up to the call of the day. The cold breeze brushes one's heart, birds chirp and kids queue in for schools.

The cab screeches to a halt at the threshold of the hotel, situated at the outskirt of the city.

I looked out of the window of my car confused as the hotel looks more like a residence. There is no sign of a hotel. No one at the gate. On the other side, there is a cemented path, either side of which is green pastures, leading to a two-storeyed house.

Even before the apprehensions could sink in, a gentleman miraculously surfaces at the gate and greets us, ending all our anxieties. After I was through with the formalities, he escorts us to our room.

My mother and I breathe relief after an overnight journey and confine ourselves to comfort of the room. We stand awe-struck, wondering at the aesthetics of the interiors.

The decors, mainly inherited from the Raja, who used to own the property, and quite a few of them are purchased from various art galleries and antique dealers across the country, bring in traditional and royal touch yet not forgetting the modern aspect.

The paintings, again picked up from various imperial sources, hanging on the wall, create an ambiance of a home.

Not just the interiors, even the exteriors manifest everything that connects to a home. Leave aside the treatment and services of the host, and it's difficult to know that one is actually in a hotel, even as one visits one room after the other.

As we look out of one after another window of different rooms, we sink into the rare treasure of nature, abound by green hills and snow-clad mountain ranges.

To add to the entire experience, the fireplace was lit up. We had a panoramic view of the mountain ranges with our feet firmly resting on the wooden floor. However, all the rooms don't give the same, intoxicating spectacle.

Lahore Connection



The whole retreat takes us down memory lane to a bygone era but not without modern amenities of luxury that any other would provide.

The history of the property can be traced back to the nineteenth century. It used to be a residence of a Muslim aristocrat Mohammad Yahya Khan, who built it as his summer refuge. During the time of the partition, he left for Pakistan.

Raja Dhyan Singh of Sheikhupura, a large erstwhile estate near Lahore, bought it from Yahya Khan for his Himachali queen Chandragupta, his second wife, who needed an escape from the sweltering heat of Lahore.

Later in the year 1987, the prince converted the palace into a heritage hotel. He ran it for five years and then Usha Lexus Hotels and Resorts brought the property in 1992 on a 40-year lease. And since then it is under its care.

As per an official of the hotel three million rupees was spent for the renovation of the hotel.

The tin-roofed, double-storied hotel, has 11 rooms, six on the first floor and five on the ground floor. It has only one family suite which is on the first floor with a common balcony, shared with the adjacent room.

The balcony offers a breathtaking view of the mountain ranges. We were informed that one could also see the Choor Chandani Range which remains covered with ice even during summers. The tariff starts from Rs 3,000 and goes up to Rs 4,600, which is for the family suite.

Light, camera, action

The hotel takes pride in the fact that some of the famous movies are being shot here. In 1997, Kareeb team stayed in the hotel for over a month. In Chori Chori, the hotel was shown as the house of the film's protagonist Ajay Devgan.


The hotel has one restaurant exclusively for its occupants. And according to the need of the client, the restaurant can be converted into a discotheque. It also has a lounge and offers various indoor games.

And to please our taste buds, the menu boasts of a variety. It offers something as simple as khichdi and munghi ka dal, to a wide array of continental dishes. And to top it, tandoori barbeque and non-vegetarian Indian stuff.

And to wind up our trip, we choose the Toy Train. As the train whizzes on the century-old track, through hill after hill, through tunnels at times, the magnificence of nature freezes in front of the eyes.

Today, years later, as I sit back to write about it, Springfields may have been converted into a boutique hotel, giving a distinct theme and character to each room, memories of the trip come rushing back. Something lives on.

(The writer is journalist based in Ahmedabad)

FOOD GUIDE - Oh! My Chicken Biriyani

The news of Andhra Bhavan soon making way for a five star hotel was little hard to digest. What would happen to my favourite Chicken biriyani?

Only made on Sundays it really is worth a week's wait. Will the canteen which is a beehive of activity during lunch and dinner also face the axe or be relocated to some funny place which would be hard to spell, leave alone reach?

Hope the planners have a place for one of the most-sought after canteen in the capital in the idea of things to follow.

The news however pulled me and my wife to pay a visit to the AP Bhavan this Sunday. I usually get the biriyani packed to be relished either at home or office but this time we decided to sample it here.

My veggie wife ordered her meal and started her gleeful swim in the pool of ghee as I digged into my chicken biriyani which seemed a bit less than my usual packed version.

I was soon through with my first plate and was feeling greedy to have another. My wife seeing my dilemma allowed me to go for one more which i did and finished with little effort. Tripti. That can only be the right word to describe my feeling.

More so due to the disappointing chicken biriyani I had last week at the Swagath in Defence Colony which often serves some lovely non vegetarian food. I did complain.

It seemed more like a chicken fry eaten along with a fried rice. When it comes to biriyani the rice should blend well with the properly cooked meat.

My expectation was very high after the last visit to Swagath when I had the chettinad chicken curry laced with pepper along with the malabar porotta, quite an amazing combo. Bikku was quite impressed with egg appam and vegetable stew.

I had to eat the first egg appam as it came sprinkled with chilly powder. I did sample a fish fry suggested by the staff but found it lacking a tinge of masala and spice which I have grown up eating. Those were the good old day's of Akkamma's (mother's sister) fish curry and fry.

So put your Sundays to good use and hop into AP Bhavan as this value for money deal might soon be a thing of the past.

Peacock dance at the Tiger's den

There was a special host greeting us on our arrival at Nawab Pataudi's Palace. One of the most beautiful creations of nature, the peacock gave us a spectacular welcome. Their blue-green wings spread wide in a circle, two peacocks were dancing away to glory as our car wound up to the entrance.

Frankly, I had never seen a peacock dance. So, for me, this was one of the most enchanting sight. Well, quite a royal welcome, I thought as I got down from the car.

But the bird turned out to be quite smart and immediately recoiled its feathers even before we could take out our camera. We are sure there will be many more here, we consoled ourselves as we offloaded from the vehicle.

Tiger's Palace

Such was our fascination towards the bird that we did not even bother to examine the place where we were supposed to shell out so much cash just for a day and night stay. So, after the peacock resumed its daily chores, we finally found the time to look around.

The Pataudi Palace is a huge white structure overlooking a large expanse of greenery. The double-storeyed marble like building has a distinct touch of heritage.

The white pillars all around reminded me of Delhi's good old Cannaught Place. Could someone ever had stayed in this huge palace, I wondered! Well, apparently the Pataudi couple now visit the palace rarely was the information provided to us by a maali who was busy pruning the garden.

Before the Neemrana group took over in 2005, the palace was run like a hotel by Nawab Pataudi's family. The lobby of the palace is adorned with beautiful antique chandeliers.


Photographs of Nawab Pataudi with his pretty wife Sharmila Tagore are all around the place. Decked up in the seemingly Nawabi style, Sharmila makes for a beautiful picture even in those black and white frames.

There were also photographs of Patuadi's cricketing days which gives you a glimpse of what the Tiger was all about in his hay days. Interestingly, there were no photographs of Saif and Soha, the star son and daughter, after whom the family is now known.

According to me, the beautiful garden which nestles the palace was the main attraction. It was unbelievable that a place which is just 75 kms away from Delhi could be so peaceful. The well kept garden was bustling with activity when we reached. About 5 to 7 gardeners were busy watering the lawn and pruning the plants.


Apart from the peacocks, the palace was home to many different species of birds. Even in the scorching sunlight, we couldn't resist a small walk in the garden. Flowers were in all bloom and there were all kinds of birds surprising you from the bushes.

We would surely take a longer walk in the evening, we promised ourselves. Little did we know that just one day is not enough for this wonderful place.

Play time

From my school days till now, I have never been able to learn any sport. So when my husband said he wanted to try a hand at snooker, I immediately decided to shift my focus to the TV.

A few hours had to be passed before we could check in to our room. So while my husband burnt his calories in the provided time, I decided to be a couch potato. The TV lounge in the palace was quite a cosy place.

While the billiards board occupied most of the space, a small TV was kept in the corner with comfortable sofas right opposite. But I couldn't concentrate for long on the movie Kashmir ki Kali, in which Sharmila Tagore incidental made her bollywood debut, as I was thoroughly enjoying the game of pool between my husband and a kid from Holland.

The kid of course was much smarter than us as he tried to teach the nuances of the game to my husband. "You also join us," the Dutch boy told me passing on the cue stick. I was just about to plunge when I read a sign saying a damage to the board would cost Rs 40,000 to any guest. Well, I was instantly back to my movie.

We yearned to take a dip into the swimming pool in the middle of a garden but without proper costumes it was not possible. So, we tried to distract ourselves with a game of table tennis. Frankly, I tried very hard to gently hit the ball but whenever I would lift the racket, the little ball would zoom past me. Sports can never be a part of my hobby list, I realised.

Our haven

Ayesha Sultana. Does the name sound familiar? It happens to be the name adopted by Sharmila when she married the Nawab. Sharmila seemed to follow us even when I could'nt give her the attention she deserved in Kashmir Ki Kali. Ayesha Mahal was the room allotted to us.

In terms of size, it wasn't a mahal but for us, this peaceful den was no less than a paradise. Our room was compact with two large single beds. The window had yellow coloured glass which kept our room lit up through out the day.

The high ceiling gave it the perfect ancient touch. Once inside the room, we were in our own small world, oblivious to the happenings around us. The long spells of silence were broken by the occasional cry of a peacock. This was the room which gave us one of the best night's sleep in ages. I was curious to explore Saif Mahal but never got a chance to do that.

This was our second experience at a Neemrana property (also read A date with a 14th Century Fort) and this time too, we found it a gastronomical delight.

The appropriately titled non-hotel hotels of Neemrana are masters at personalising services. So the three meals of the day were served at three different places in the palace. While lunch was a typical tasty North Indian meal, it was the dinner that we found was worth every penny.

Served at the poolside, this was one of our best candle light dinners together. I indulged in the yummy cheese and spinach rolls, according to my husband, the chicken was the best he's had for ages.

Enchanting feathers

My husband was a restless soul at the Palace. The camera forever in his hand, he was constantly on a lookout for the beautiful bird which refused to be captured dancing in the frame.

Peacocks were in abundance at this place (about 50, according to a worker). Surprisingly, there seemed to have been no attempt made to familiarise them with the human face.

A peacock, which would be busy dancing would immediately fly away the moment we went near. So initially, we decided to be silent spectators. Just when the bird thought the human being was away from its territory, its wings instantly spread out.

Delicate and lovely, the dancing peacock was a magnificent sight. We spotted another one right next to it, hastening to join in the dance. I looked up at the sky but there was no rain.

Just then I chanced on a female pea hen standing seemingly unaffected by the dance. Oh ... so this was the wooing time! At least I could not make out any difference between the two dancing beauties since they both looked so out of this world.


So now we knew how so many songs and poems are written on the peacock. I was also itching to take out a pen and paper and document that beautiful sight.

I couldn't understand how can someone have the heart to kill or pluck away its beautiful feathers? I can't imagine it looking good at any other place except the peacock's back.


As the two danced away to impress their lady love, they were quite unaware of the two humans enchanted by their astounding beauty.

Farewell

We rarely feel sad when we head back home after a holiday. But while we left the place, we had a compelling feeling of getting back to Pataudi Palace soon. The peacocks, the garden, the swimming pool, the snooker table ... everything was calling us back. There was so much more to discover, so much more to talk about ... Yes, we will come back.

Trivandrum Diary

I am smitten. This is my second visit to this exquisite locale, but the magical feeling which engulfs me when the aircraft starts hovering over Kerala still remains. This is truly God's Own Country.

And it is Trivandrum, the capital is where I pay my obeisance to. For me, it is a haven, a place which has become so much a part of me in just two visits.

Green queen

Four and a half hours in the plane is pretty tiring. So, by the time you are told that the flight is preparing for arrival to the Trivandrum airport, all you want to do is get up and run.

But hold on. It was just then that I happened to look down from my window. A poet would have found his muse from the sight which greeted me when I looked out. I was here, little below the clouds and in front of my eyes was this vast green blanket, engulfing a huge territory.

Soft, fresh and welcoming, the lush green layer seemed to call me and I was mentally responding to it. And there was the ocean. From the distance, only a sheet of blue could be seen perfectly complimenting the green blanket.

It was nature at its best. Something I thought we could see only on the Discovery or National Geographic channel. The best part is that the magic doesn't fade even when the flight is about to hit the ground.

True, the marks of civilisation are seen all over, but everything is in the lap of nature. So, all along the strip of land, you can spot trees, plants and water. Wow ... this is a real confluence of nature. This is my second visit and I'm sure I'll feel equally enamoured the third time too.

Homecoming

Be it talking or writing, I tend to get carried away at the mention of Trivandrum. I apologise.

Some introduction is required - Thiruvananthapuram, as it is now called is my sasural (husband's home). Well, I never knew all my talks with my mother about visiting Kerala once would be heard by someone up there and come true so soon... But they did and I visited Kerala not as a tourist but as a coy bride for the first time.

Funny, it may sound, but it felt like a homecoming for me. I was thousands of miles away from my family in a house full of strangers but as I walked into my husband's house with the traditional Kerala lamp in my hand, I felt completely at home. Strange. Probably, that's what God's Own Country is all about.

Water, water, everywhere

The Trivandrum airport is very strategically located. You get a rendezvous with the sea while heading towards the main city from the airport. The waves from Shankhu Mukham beach, which is a stone's throw away from the airport are ever ready to welcome all visitors.

As the cars wound down the beach, the waves lap up almost waving enthusiastically to you. "Come to play with us soon," they seemed to be telling me as I passed through the beach.

And I kept my promise. I had to.

The famous Kovalam beach was where I was first taken to. I was sensible. I didn't expect a Goa here. But I didn't regret.

The Kovalam beach is no water paradise. The white sand and blue water description is not applicable to this place. Unlike the breathtaking beauty of the Goa beaches,it is the greenery here that catches attention.

The coconut trees lining up throughout the coastline are the first thing to catch your attention as you park your car on the beach. I, like a foolish child wanted to run straight into the water. But I was warned. The sea at the Kovalam beach is quite rough and you have to be on your guard constantly while going near the water.

Unfortunately, even for all its popularity, this beach is hardly well kept. As expected, the beach was more frequented by the foreigners who didn't seem to have a fear of water.

And for these firang tourists are built those umpteen shops adorning the beach selling everything from clothes to jewellery. It hardly matters that they sell everything at a triple price. They are after all doing brisk business.

From here, we headed to the Shanghu Mukham beach, which I had seen from the airport. While it is considered a family beach, this place looked much more cleaner and safer than Kovalam.


We culminated our visit with a treat of a variety of eggs and mutton cutlets at the Indian Coffee House right opposite the beach.

Padmanabhaswamy temple

A trip to Trivandrum would have been incomplete without a visit to the Padmanabhaswamy temple. Wearing a yellow chiffon sari, I set out with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law to see Lord Padmanabha who ruled Travancore via the Padmanabha Dasa, meaning "servants of the Lord Padmanabha"(erstwhile royal family).

It took me a while to acclimatise myself to the temple surroundings. Around me, I could only see bare bodied men wearing the mundu (dhoti) and sari clad women scattered all around.

Some were probably tourists but there were many others for whom this visit was a routine. After walking some good distance within, we finally reached the spot where the main deity was seated.

The excessive crowd and heat was getting on to me but the devotees around me seemed hardly bothered. But when I finally got a chance to stand in front of the deity, I realised it was all worth the effort.


In front of me was probably the most majestic statue of a God I had ever seen in my life. All in gold, Swami Padmanabha was reclining royally in his chamber.

The statue was not lifeless - even in the lying posture, the Lord seemed to be talking to his devotees. The glittering golden miracle I witnessed almost seemed unbelievable. I was still reeling under the effect of the sheer size and carving of the statue when we walked out of the place.

All that glitters

Kerala is one place which seems to be blessed with the Midas touch. From the regal Padmanabhaswamy statue to extravagant weddings, gold is so much a part of life for Keralaites.

Here, gold is one of the criterion for gauging the prosperity of a family. As we drove down the roads of the city, I couldn't help noticing huge billboards saying, "instalments available for gold purchase."

But the real feel of the Midas touch can be seen at any of the traditional Nair wedding. Decked up with a minimum of 20 gold chains and two to three dozen bangles, an affluent Nair bride is quite a breathtaking sight.

So, I realised that one of the things that a tourist should not forget during a Kerala visit is to go to a good jewellery shop. Having some of the purest gold in the country, Keralaites also happen to be brilliant jewellery designers.


The multi-coloured stone ornaments or the aesthetically designed pure gold chains, Kerala may be best described as paradise for the accessory freaks.


Watch out for your waist line

Although my sister-in-law lovingly fed me with the best ghee roast dosas I have ever had, dosa is not a speciality of Kerala. This place is a paradise for those food lovers (especially non-vegetarians) who don't mind experimenting.

For starters, everything here is cooked in coconut oil. Hold on. Agreed, it is cholestrol rich food but believe me, you'll miss something if you don't indulge!

I was lucky. Being the pampered bahu, I got to taste some of the best dishes of the place. So be it puttu & Kadala, idiappam & kootu curry, appam & stew or of course dosa - I digged into everything.

Initially, I was served Basmati rice but gradually I also started eating the thick red rice, which is their staple food. The excessive use of green chillies burnt my stomach but there was something to compensate for that too.


There is an abundance of juice shops across the city, serving an assortment of fresh fruit juices, which are so easy on the pocket too.


The desi air

My 10-day stay in Trivandrum steadied my fast paced life for a while. The Capital of the State with hundred per cent literacy seemed so much at ease with their identity. Trivandrum is no mini-America.

It was a relief to forget the existence of Mc Donalds and Pizza Hut for those days. Unfortunately for old fashioned people like me, the Delhi, Mumbai effect is catching up here too. So, on my second visit I chanced upon a newly built Cafe Coffee Day here which seemed to be the hot spot of youngsters ...

Two visits are not enough to know Trivandrum, and I'm sure I'll get our readers much more to chew on after my third visit to the God's Own Country which happens to be my second home.

Amritsar Diary

As our car zipped through the lanes of Amritsar at 11 in the night, I felt a strange familiarity with the city. After sleeping all the way through our journey in the Shatabdi, we were wide awake when we reached.

Our destination, City Heart Hotel came in no time but I was still wondering why does this city seem familiar. In fact, this was my first visit to Punjab ... However, I turned my attention to the place where our hotel was located.

Built amidst a row of shops, our hotel was a small two storey building which could have been easily mistaken for another shop had it not been for the huge banner.

Just adjoining the building was an ICICI ATM along with a shop selling 'punjabi jutti' which was open even at 11.15 in the night! There were people and vehicles still going down the road ... The scene was a far cry from the deserted city that Delhi becomes at this time and they say big cities have an active night life!.

The signs of commercialisation were written bold and clear all over the place. A place which has such a huge slice in the history of the nation and houses one of the most beautiful temples of this country seemed to have kept its pace with the fast moving time. This did not look like the ancient city that we had imagined.

Here, my brain suddenly propped up this answer - this place is like Chandni Chowk of Delhi. Oh yes, the small but well stocked lanes, always buzzing with people was so much like the famous market of Old Delhi. The only difference here was that standing on the road in the wee hours did not make you feel vulnerable to rape or theft at any point.

I again surveyed the city through the thick glass window of my hotel room next morning. At 7 a.m., the lanes had a life and freshness about them. The fruits and vegetable hawkers already seemed to have done good business.

But there was one shop below which caught my eye - bannered Milk Shop, as place was attracting a lot of crowd. The people who came here to have a glass of milk, lassi or any other milk item seemed like localites who were used to this routine of stopping by this shop and then moving ahead for their daily chores.

I saw groups of men and women heading towards the same direction, which I later learnt was the way towards the Golden Temple. Heads covered with their dupattas and pagadis, the kirpans forever hanging across their shoulders, the walk towards the gurudwara also was a daily ritual I presumed.

The first morning

After snacking on butter toast and drinking the milky tea from the hotel, we set out for our city tour. Our hotel, we learnt was very strategically located. While the Jallianwalla Bagh was just a stone throw away, the Golden Temple was at about a 50 meter distance.

The Temple visit (New Year at the Golden Temple), was quite exhausting as the blazing sun ensured that our energies would be sapped out. But when it comes to my husband, the exploring spirit always rules over so we didn't immediately get back to the hotel.

But before we walked towards Jallianwalla Bagh, we had to find a cyber cafe since there was something important to check. Our assumption was wrong and we had no difficulty in finding out a Internet cafe. After paying Rs 20 for ten minutes in the shady place, we walked towards Jallianwalla Bagh.

Memories of 1919

It didn't occur to us that we were visiting the fateful site of Jallianwalla Bagh exactly after 88 years of the massacre. It was April 13, the Baisakhi day when thousands of people had gathered in this park, unaware that for many it would be the last Baisakhi of their lives.


88 years later, the Bagh is a tourist spot. Be it in the peak summer afternoon or the warm evenings, we always found the place crowded. But it was not just the tourists but several localites also who were there for their daily walk.

We started having goosepimples the moment we walked down the narrow passage leading us to the bagh. An engraving in a stone read - People were fired at from here.

Our minds were busy, trying to get a picture of how those unarmed men and women must have struggled to preserve their precious lives. We walked further down and stood at a spot which gave us a good view of the place.

The soil, which was once wet with the blood of many innocent lives is now bed to so many flowering plants. The once barren ground where dead bodies were strewn across is now a lawn for visitors to walk.

It is hard to imagine that this place, now alive with the sounds of children, men and women was once a ground that saw one of the worst massacres.

But the reminders of April 13, 1919 are all over the place. Right at the entrance is a huge board explaining the massacre. Bang opposite it is a narrow passage which serves as an exhibition space.

Showcased here are pictures of some of the people who became the victims of General Dyer's cruelty, who later came to be known as the Butcher of Amritsar.

The narrow passage leads to a small room which houses a huge painting depicting the massacre.


The fountain built at the entrance of the park was attracting a lot of the crowd and also a group of wasps which were buzzing around the pool to keep itself cool.

A walk around the park and we found little boards across the walls reading 'Bullet Mark.' A walk across the Jallianwalla Bagh seemed like reading a chapter from our history books.


Our chapter culminated with a photography session at the shahidi kuan. The martyr's well, from which 120 bodies were taken out is now a spot where people gather and try to peep deep inside the well, as if the bodies will still be there.

The placard on which is written the details of the tragedy has a collage of signatures and messages. We wondered what kind of a show of patriotism was this to spoil the barely preserved historical site?


The houses built on the boundary of the park now have air conditioners to shield them from the scorching heat. As we slowly made out out of the park, I saw a little girl peering through the window of a house bordering the park ...

Culinary tales

We were really excited to taste the famous Punjabi cuisine. So before we headed to the Wagah border (An evening at the Wagah Border), we ordered a heavy lunch. Though the vegetarian paneer and roti were quite tasty, we still have nightmares about the non veg dishes. The uncooked chicken took a toll on my husband's stomach for the next one week!

The one meal we thoroughly enjoyed in the city was the one at the Brother's Dhaba. Thanks to a localite lady, who we bumped into on the street, we were guided to the place.

The tadka dal makhani and the shahi paneer had a typical taste so different from what is made in the restaurants in Delhi. Considering the amount of butter used, the famous Amritsari kulcha is sinful but surely worth the one-time calorie intake.

But it was the lassi which has stayed on to our taste buds till now. The sweet, creamy beverage gave us all the energy that the heat had taken away.

The food might be delicious but we felt quite uncomfortable with the crude serving of the waiters there. After experiencing the warmth of hospitality in Himachal and Rajasthan, this seemed little difficult for us to digest.

Too hot to shop

I sincerely apologize to the compulsive shoppers because I have no inputs to give them about shopping in Amritsar. Though we had heard from someone that the Punjabi juttis are very nice and affordable there, I had absolutely no intention to try chappal after chappal in 40 plus degrees.

The clothes market of the city was a mini version of the Chandni Chowk market. We were told that papars are a speciality of Amritsar and the number of papar shops confirmed it.


Still, we didn't even try to get into any of the shops. Though the sweet shops had nothing different from Delhi, we bought pinni to taste.

So long

Our Amritsar stay ended on the Vishu morning with we getting a taste of the helpful station staff who helped us get a duplicate ticket since we had lost the original one. There was no red tapism and unnecessary delays ... We happily boarded the Shatabdi back home.