By: Vagabond

Until 2000:
Park your car on the service lane near the church in front of St.Joseph college. Walk back to the imperial hotel a couple of meters away. Ask for the Kebab chacha. And you will be guided to the old Imperial theatre. In front of the ramschakle Imperial theatre, 4 young men and one old stand besides their bicycles. Stapped to the back metal seats are large mutka pots with flaming coals. Spread out on them are shears on which are small mutton rolls, all hand-rolled.

Ask for one and you'll be handed a plate. Just Rs.5/-. Once you have tasted them, there's no going back. It becomes a habit. Perhaps much more, an adiction.These are the finest handrolled kebabs in town. Just the right amount of spices and not a single bone. Just the right fry and the heat. Just the right tinge of lemon and onion slices. Everything's perfect. Roll them in your mouth and you want them to stay. But they disappear. And after it another, then another...

Intrigued, I asked him how long he has been doing this. "30 years", he replied dead pan. His experience was showing on my taste buds. Every day after work, Imperial theatre was a must-do.

The weekends at the pubs were replaced by drinking with close budding at home with generous amounts of kebabs. And no one complained. On the contrary, I was the toast of my friends. Everybody wanted to know where to get them. Even the non-drinking wives. And so the habit continued. Until I took a better opening and moved out to Chennai.

A word of caution. Be there before 8.00 p.m. He is usually out of stock by then.

Today:
I happened to be in Bangalore on work. And though I had been here earlier, I never really had the time to check out on Chacha. I stopped by at Imperial yesterday.

The old Imperial theatre is gone and with it, Chacha's legacy of the kebabs. In its place stands a spectacle. A large steel and glass edifice, testimony to the clout of the real estate guys. A sad state of affairs of urban bangalore.

The watchman at the new structure miraculously remembered Chacha. And he gave me the update. Chacha died a couple of years back. His sons dispersed, probably sick of having to dispense kebab slices to faceless strangers. Good for him, he did not have to live to see the Bangalore of yore reduced to dust.

But was it just Cacha that Bangalore lost? Or was it the finest kebabs? Or was it Bangalore itself? On the train back to Chennai, I wondered. I haven't found an answer yet...