Chocolate gateaux, Truffaut and the first May showers

Fast facts first.

• Francoise Truffaut, born in 1932 (6 February), was one of the leading French directors in a genre called new wave cinema.
• He started out as a film critic and later began making his own films.
• Convinced by the idea that a film is primarily an impression of a director’s style (auteur theory), Truffuat left a distinct mark in world cinema.
• Orson Welles inspired him to make his first film “The 400 Blows”, heavily borrowed on his own life experiences, that was released to much critical acclaim.
• Besides “The 400 Blows” some of his other films include “Jules and Jim”, “Shoot the Piano Player”, “Bed and Board”, “Two English Girls”, “Day for Night” (Best Foreign Film Oscar, 1973), and “Small Change” (Golden Globe nomination for Best Foreign Film).
• Truffaut died in 1984 (21 October).

My first tete-a-tete with Truffaut (alack, only through his films) happened as a happy coincidence. Those were the days when I used to be the master of my time. On such a hot May afternoon, while gallivanting Delhi’s streets, I found myself on a quiet tree-lined avenue, near India International Centre, looking askance at a sepia-tinted poster of a handsome man in a beret, posing in front of a camera.

But such was the arresting pose of the person that my oblique attention gave way to a deep probe. As it turned out, Alliance Francaise was screening a retrospective of this auteur and, like most Delhi events, entry was free. Now, the magic of the silver screen has never failed to seduce me. Hence, I happily made my way to the auditorium, and immediately got immersed in the son et lumiere of Traffaut’s cine world.

That May afternoon remains etched in my memory for a variety of reasons. Primarily because I discovered Truffaut’s cine magic and secondly because that evening I had a taste of my first chocolate gateaux, soaked in the annihilating lust of Mathilde’s relationship with Bernard (“Woman Next Door”). And as I was making my way out of Alliance, silently sending a prayer for an afternoon well spent, I was completely caught unawares by the first (read: sudden) showers of the season. Cinema, cakes and walking through laburnum-strewn streets on a rain-drenched evening … what more could I have asked for!

What's cooking?

Like a true-blue Bangali, I salivate over the aromas that waft from the kitchen and can spend hours exchanging notes on anything from shukto to sushi. But unlike other members of the ilk, when it comes to brandishing my culinary skills willingly, I cut a sorry figure. Simply put, I am a reluctant cook of the very first order.

Which is not to say that I have faltered. I know there are mouths to be fed, parties to be returned…New-age psychotherapy even pitches cooking as an effective stress buster. But evidently, I’ve failed to see through it all.

Cooking for me is a cumbersome exercise. Period. And predictably so, since the whole rigmarole starts with the basic dilemma “what to cook”. On good days, when contents spill forth from the fridge and strike you with a brainwave, you hit the stew-pot instantly. But, after a hard day at office with hunger pangs gnawing at your guts, your “Aha” moment seems aeons away!

But then I am a Bong (oops bangali ;) ) and being a foodie is sort of mapped in my genes. I need my luchi fix almost every Sunday, a steaming hot Ilish machher jhol as rains lash the parched earth, notun gurer payesh when there’s nip in the air, not to mention other droolworthy delights. Hence, no matter how much I hum and haw, I still reach for the kitchen when I’m feeling down and pamper myself with a lip-smacking dish.

And, oh yes … did i mention ... there’s always enough for gatecrashers.

Bonding over bondas

Those of you who are familiar with Delhi’s Jawaharlal Nehru University, smugly called JNU, will know about the most hip and happening place of this intellectual arena. Ok here’s the clue: it’s the place you come across as soon as you let yourself in through the “hallowed portals”, it’s got a rustic look, doesn’t even remotely resemble the swanky classrooms and buzzes almost 24/7. If you are still trying to figure that out, let me cue you in: it’s the one and only Ganga Dhaba.

Though the word dhaba, in the conventional sense, brings with it images of highway bonhomie over a rustic meal, yet as you weave your way through the scores of babul trees dotting Ganga Dhaba you’d be least reminded about one. Open from morning till 2 in the night, this dhaba actually comes to life post 5 pm, once all the classes are done with and the burden of staid discourses safely deposited where they belong best.

If you happen to arrive a little late you’ll find the numerous cement blocks that serve as seats “taken”. In that case, ensconce yourself on the curb close by and soak in the “ambience”. But before that you need to answer your tummy call.

Like any other university canteen in the country, Ganga Dhaba dishes out the regular fare of samosa and chai but what sets it apart are the steaming aloo bondas, served with a dash of sauce on the side. A bite into this bread-and-potato wonder and you’ve already decided to come back for your second one!

When you’ve had your fill, you decide to get a bit more nosey and start chatting up with the boy behind the counter. Despite the rush, he is more than willing to talk about all that goes on in the dhaba, be it an innocuous evening discussion about a cricket match or the protest marches ending with fiery speeches, steaming chai and aloo bondas, at 2 in the morning. And as you watch him draining oil from the batch of fried bondas, you can’t help yourself from digging into another one of those fried goodies. Calorie watching can go to the winds for a day.