One day, Ankit asked me after the CAD lab, ‘Do you want to eat the tastiest masala dosa in Avinashi Road?’ After breaking the head for over 3 hours after classes over ANSYS finite element modelling of steel structures for the final semester project, a tired, hostel dwelling, perpetually famished, 20-something-year-old would only say, ‘yes’ to such a generous offer.
It was dark outside. We crossed the road that separated our PSG Tech from the hostel compound and walked through the alleys. Many thoughts swirled in my mind, as light and breezy as Coimbatore evenings in December, while Ankit chatted non-stop all the way to the PSG IMS campus mess. It was a tiny yet very neat eatery with meagre counters and seats for the interiors.
I was only used to eating the dosas my mom made at home until then. She paired it with chicken or egg curry as vegetables had to be force-fed to us as kids. When we ate out, my mom was a loyal customer of ‘Gitanjali’ famous for their masala dosas in Bur Dubai but we kids always had our fill of Shawarmas or KFC. Otherwise, it had to be Porotta and chilly chicken from the corner restaurant ‘Sanman’ at the Deluxe Building D in Ghusais.
Best masala dosa ever
Ankit was a hard-core vegetarian and Coimbatore canteens were mostly run by vegetarians, so masala dosas it had to be. I ate the best masala dosa of my life that night for the first time in my 20-plus years. I didn’t know that the aroma of ghee on sizzling thin, crispy dosas, the mix of well-cooked potatoes tempered with shallots, mustard seeds and red chilies with a side of coconut, tomato, and coriander chutney in that PSG IMS canteen could capture my attention so absolutely.
Ankit and I are out of touch, he must be running a couple of very well-known IT companies in the United States now; he had a brain capable of coding more quickly than the ANSYS compilers. I still google the roads around PSG Tech and drive the mouse pointer down the lanes behind the girls’ hostel of PSG Tech which was connected to the PSG IMS mess.
Postgraduate students had special permission for the CAD labs, so we could stay in the lab till 9pm. We used the signed approval from the HOD to enter the hostel through the back gate after grabbing a quick bite. Needless to say, our project finished faster than expected because we had the reward of crunchy dosas or crusty medhuvadas to look forward to after a hard day’s work!
I don’t remember the marks I scored for the final year project, but I sure do remember my professor, Jayagopal sir, who was the best guide any student could have, and the masala dosas of PSG IMS mess.
For a mere cost of 10Rs, two ravenous students could indulge their taste buds in first-class flavours! As Parineeti Chopra says in the Bollywood movie, ‘Hasee Toh Phasee,’ half plates and a by two soup always had more food quantity than single plates!
The Fruit Shop on Greams Road of Nungambakkam.
‘Fruit Shop on Greams Road’ on Thousand Lights in Nungambakkam holds many such memories. No other milkshakes have tasted as sweet as the ones in this shop. I had just met a boy who had mischief in his eyes those days.
The Fruit shop on Greams Road
I wonder why the lanes around
Were called ‘A Thousand Lights’
The nights we roamed the streets
I liked the way my tongue rolled
As I said, ‘I stay in Nungambakkam’
Oh! How dreamy days were then
Life felt as sweet and cool as
The fruit shop’s icy mango-shakes
But that’s a story for another time.
Feby Imthias is a writer based in Abu Dhabi and author of the book, Children of the Sun, Sand and Seas. Twitter: @Feby_Imthias
