I’m a lover of classic coffee. As a millennial, I cling to the quintessential South Indian filter coffee and scoff at that new fangled, pretentious, cinnamon flavoured 'Tired Bird’ dip bag coffee-like products. So, when I found this great cafe close-ish to home that does a good flat white, I quickly settled into a weekend routine, popping by there for a weekend post workout treat. It comforted me to have a favourite cafe again, after having lost Black Coffee Pharmacy in Bonn ( to the hippies ), and then Kaffeesaurus & Treibgut because I moved. The cafe has a large outdoor space, so once the oppressive heat gave way to only mild sweating and discomfort, they decided to organise a handicrafts festival in the backyard. I headed there and impulse bought some earrings and stickers, before my resolve to ‘support the arts’ gave way to grumpiness at the humidity. I found the kitchen and asked the guy manning it to make me a non-sweet, refreshing drink. It was 8 pm, so I was expecting ...
A new friend recently said, “when people who have lived abroad say ‘here’, they mean India, but when I say it, I mean Ahmedabad vs Mumbai. In that moment it seemed like the usual random nonsense someone high on Diwali vacation vibes + weed might say. But as I think more closely, there is a grain of wisdom hiding behind the benignity. Our outlook is defined by the exposure we have gotten, either gathered through travel, movies, discussions, upbringing or simply by living among people whose world view is different from our own. When I decided to move back, I was prepared for the physical differences of living in India vs Europe, I knew it would be hot, crowded and loud, people would be unpunctual, and that would get on my nerves. I think I was partially unprepared for how difficult it would be fit in emotionally . Before I left, I did often feel like a misfit or a rebel, sometimes being Bengali in a pretty Marathi city, but largely due to my experiences at a rigid and unwelcomin...