Kumbakonam Venkatramana Hotel

As the train chugged into Kumbakonam station, it was already 2 PM and my stomach had begun its grumbling. After the usual mobile calls,I located the car driver who was, till the train arrived was there and at the spot-on time, had to go out for a cup of tea - he ended up further delaying my lunch.

" Saar! we go straight to Venkartramana hotel, you get super lunch! They give payasam everyday, saar!"

The taste buds started doing over time and after some 15-odd minutes we entered the dingy street where the famed hotel was located.

The congested road was further narrowed by a row of cycles and scooters parked in not-so-orderly manner and none seemed to bother. They were busy zig zagging and trooping into the hall where a fine aroma of sambar and rasam were emnating.

The hotel was an oblong shaped building with tables and chairs fully occupied by noisy eaters of lunch and hawkish waiting population, breathing down on their necks!

The servers were moving in a medley of noise and confusion.

" rice here!"
" I asked for vegetables!"
" baby! come here"
" way please"

The cacophony of sounds reminded me of a railway station with a train about to leave. 

Looking at my city attire, a server asked me to go to the AC room.

Except being a little cooler, the room was no different in its state of confusion, but yes, there were a couple of tables and chairs empty, beckoning me.

The first taste of the vegetable was heavenly as my stomach had long lost its ability to assess quality or cleanliness. As a bowl of rice was dropped on my plate and hot sambar poured on top, I could notice a long line of hair slithering on my plate. Had I been the Nala of Dhamyandhi, I could have used my imagery prowess and caricatured the face of the woman to whom this long strand of hair once belonged. 

Well, now I could only complain.

i must appreciate the server who redressed my complaint so effortlessly - he thrust his hand in my plate, deftly removed the strand and waved it away in another direction and beamingly said, " there you are"!

Suddenly there was a rush of people entering and occupying the empty chairs and in that melee, the cup in which curd was kept was wiped away from my table and the cup found its abode on my lap, spilling its white contents on my black trouser. The nearby middle aged lady, with a bucket and a long broom, rushed towards me. With a deep apologetic look, said "sorry sorry" and producing a dirty cloth from nowhere, she approached me with the object of wiping my trouser. As the area of the spill on trouser was close to being sensitive, I quickly withdrew and said" its alright"!

Had you been there on that moment, you could have seen a 50 plus old man blushing crimson red on a mid afternoon - not an easy sight to catch, you know!

I finished my lunch, got out and inside the car, on my way to Thiruvarur, the driver enthusiastically with the pride of having taken me to the best restaurant in town, said, " "You would never have experienced such a lunch, am I right sir?"

I had to agree.