Eventful history of Irani cafes

One warm day in April 1984 Syed Turab Husain Abid and his brother walked into the MCH office with just the thought they would apply for a permission for opening an Irani Bakery in Begumpet. To their surprise the officer said he would give the permiss ion right away and asked them for the name of the place. They didn’t have any. The officer suggested a name: Flyover Bakery, after the structure right in front of his proposed café. The name stuck, the place morphed.

Now, the Flyover Bakery in Greenlands looks like a glass cubicle that might tumble onto the road along with the diners tucking into chicken manchuria or chilli chicken.

In another corner of the city is Skylab. Stolid by the Mettuguda crossroads as passersby think about the queer name for an Irani café, but the older residents know the truth about the name. That year of fear in 1979 when the Skylab plummeted to earth in July 12, 1979 as the world watched in fear and fascination as the Time magazine put it: “Only 10 per cent of the earth’s inhabitants can be considered totally free of any risk from Skylab’s metallic fallout.” Inside the café the mood is glum and the owner’s son refuses to talk; the red arrow outside with 40” is the secret. Outside the cafe is the pan shop run by Prakash that came into existence along with the café. “Do you remember the time when Skylab fell?” he asks.

“1979?”

“This café opened in 1978, now most of this will go in road-widening,” says Prakash with a shrug.

With that hammer blow another landmark will disappear.

If other Indian cities have statues as landmarks unrelated to the history of the city, Hyderabad has Irani cafes and restaurants that not just give a name to the place but also bring alive a time and a memory for its residents. If the Y2K@TandooriChicken.com Biryani restaurant at Panjagutta takes us back eight years when a fortune was made out of the Y2K fear, for a few people the Flyover Bakery takes them back to that day in November 1983 when Queen Elizabeth inaugurated the flyover in November 1983. As lunch hour crowd mills around him, Abid recalls the time: “This was a lonely place. After 6 p.m., it was difficult to spot a single soul, now anytime of the day or night, it is difficult to find this road deserted,” he says.

In Mettuguda is Café Diana, might sound just like a name, but for the residents it takes them back to the time when Diana Hayden became Miss World in 1997.

Last year as Mahendra Singh Dhoni’s men lifted the Twenty-20 world cup, the Hyderabadi landmark tribute is being readied in Srinagar Colony with a multi-cuisine restaurant called what else but Twenty-20 kitchen. “Most of the restaurants have names of spices, vegetables and the cuisine, I wanted something new. When Dhoni’s team won the world cup, the T-20 concept was the rage and I though why not this name,” says Nageshwar Rao, whose takeaway restaurant is getting the finishing touches.

If one restaurant called Pakeezah recalls the year when Meena Kumari passed away and the movie was released, the same cannot be said about the other Pakeezahs that have cropped up. Some names remain while the memories get erased: Kennedy in the Old City remains but the owners can scarce tell the reason for the name, as do owners of restaurants called Rolex or Boston or Chicago.

SERISH NANISETTI

Saturday, Jan 05, 2008, Metroplus