For years, more than 25 years, two old gentlemen and a lady, owned and ran Jain Dughdalay on Yogi Nagar Road, and turned it into a compass point; for auto rickshaws, Jain Dughdalay is a reference point to every Yogi housing society; by 4 in the morning Jain opens and rests with blinds half-drawn midnight; attendants mind the business at odd hours; otherwise, it is two old gentlemen and a lady, in wooden arm chairs and a wooden table piled with bound longform, red, ruled, notebooks; the books lie open with the owners noting down every sale of milk in blue ink; the table drawers surge with fresh cash and me likes their sight; milk costs Rs.66 a litre, Alphonso mango pulp in summer is priced at Rs.380 per litre, Amul icecreams, Rajesh faludas; regular, steady business with Gangetic cash flows. Attendants are fed by the family, say some though it is hard to confirm anything as the owners do not go beyond 'ardha litre, ek litre'. In the 90s, me was a friend of two old arthritic attendants; they limped all over Yogi Nagar delivering Jain milk; they retired to their Konkan villages; Rama and me were irregulars; with Shreya and Chiyu at home, made trips for alphonso aam ras and icecreams; but now they come less often; with their friends visit Dominos or Guptas for bhel puri, bhel sandwich...; and there was our doodhwala from Rajasthan; two months ago we delinked as the milk had no appeal; Bhayyaji tried to make amends; did not work; are regulars at Jain Dughdalay. Over March, Yogi is in spring. A wigged, young man (below 30) is behind the desk, maybe related to walking away elders; a corporate doing over; me walked in one morning to a Good Morning from the smiling young gentleman and ordered a litre of milk instead of the usual half-litre; Rama heaved in protest, a habit; wished back a Good Morning and on Sunday, a Happy Sunday; if it is evening he is prompt with a Good evening; unlike the 24x7 aged and young chorus of Jai Sri Krishna, Jai Sri Ram, Hari Om, Bharat Mata ki Jai of yogis at Yogi Nagar. On the second day, the fella was tapping a freshly invested computer, feeding it milk data...the bound note books are still there, little used ... the elders refer to it on their rounds, like an old habit of living; for me, the thing about the young man is expanding the menu, a vertical integration without licences, say economists: freshly made chaas (Rs.20 a glass), lassi (Rs.30 a glass), cold covers against the March and then April and May suns; these days, the young man does not wait for me order: morning, it is two glasses of chhas; evening two glasses of lassi, thick and sweet; Rama is always fine. Management change at Jain Dughdalay has made a change. Evenings the place is crowded and the young crowd of women, men and children like it. Do not know his name but that does not matter. Cool, lassi days.
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Cool, lassi days
For years, more than 25 years, two old gentlemen and a lady, owned and ran Jain Dughdalay on Yogi Nagar Road, and turned it into a compass point; for auto rickshaws, Jain Dughdalay is a reference point to every Yogi housing society; by 4 in the morning Jain opens and rests with blinds half-drawn midnight; attendants mind the business at odd hours; otherwise, it is two old gentlemen and a lady, in wooden arm chairs and a wooden table piled with bound longform, red, ruled, notebooks; the books lie open with the owners noting down every sale of milk in blue ink; the table drawers surge with fresh cash and me likes their sight; milk costs Rs.66 a litre, Alphonso mango pulp in summer is priced at Rs.380 per litre, Amul icecreams, Rajesh faludas; regular, steady business with Gangetic cash flows. Attendants are fed by the family, say some though it is hard to confirm anything as the owners do not go beyond 'ardha litre, ek litre'. In the 90s, me was a friend of two old arthritic attendants; they limped all over Yogi Nagar delivering Jain milk; they retired to their Konkan villages; Rama and me were irregulars; with Shreya and Chiyu at home, made trips for alphonso aam ras and icecreams; but now they come less often; with their friends visit Dominos or Guptas for bhel puri, bhel sandwich...; and there was our doodhwala from Rajasthan; two months ago we delinked as the milk had no appeal; Bhayyaji tried to make amends; did not work; are regulars at Jain Dughdalay. Over March, Yogi is in spring. A wigged, young man (below 30) is behind the desk, maybe related to walking away elders; a corporate doing over; me walked in one morning to a Good Morning from the smiling young gentleman and ordered a litre of milk instead of the usual half-litre; Rama heaved in protest, a habit; wished back a Good Morning and on Sunday, a Happy Sunday; if it is evening he is prompt with a Good evening; unlike the 24x7 aged and young chorus of Jai Sri Krishna, Jai Sri Ram, Hari Om, Bharat Mata ki Jai of yogis at Yogi Nagar. On the second day, the fella was tapping a freshly invested computer, feeding it milk data...the bound note books are still there, little used ... the elders refer to it on their rounds, like an old habit of living; for me, the thing about the young man is expanding the menu, a vertical integration without licences, say economists: freshly made chaas (Rs.20 a glass), lassi (Rs.30 a glass), cold covers against the March and then April and May suns; these days, the young man does not wait for me order: morning, it is two glasses of chhas; evening two glasses of lassi, thick and sweet; Rama is always fine. Management change at Jain Dughdalay has made a change. Evenings the place is crowded and the young crowd of women, men and children like it. Do not know his name but that does not matter. Cool, lassi days.
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