Of the four years spent in college, the topic that endured almost every discussion session was obviously the food. We all did miss the ‘mummy ke haath ka khana’, and were painfully aware of that from then on it would always be a rare show for us. However, it didn’t stop us from dreaming about eating sumptuous amounts of yummy food. And man, did we try to materialize those dreams to our dining tables!!!
After my mom’s scary lecture about the bad inedible food in the hills and of course, the mess I was frankly not very optimistic about the meals. But the meals served in 1st year were unbearably agonizing not only for the tongue but also for the stomach. And yes, during the initial ‘advices n stories’ session before college, someone told me that they make an awesome Arhar ki daal on the hills. It being my favorite in lunch (well, screw the time – I can eat good Arhar any time) I was looking forward to having it sometime on my plate. And they did make it in Aravali (my hostel in 1st year) pretty soon. And if I remember correctly, it was nice, not as good as home, though…! It was only later that I learned that the mess workers were given specific instructions by the hostel warden to make special food only till the parents were in the hostel, with their children.
After that, the quality of food consistently deteriorated, never to rise back again. But worth mentioning is the part that even the quantity of food consumed per student was strictly checked and the rare occasions on which they somehow made a meal worth eating, the amount of it served was so low that our tummies threatened with a hunger strike…
Since the ragging period was not over yet, none of us was frequent on outside visit late nights (courtesy stories of 1st years being kidnapped into 2nd year hostels during the night). However, optimistic as I always was and am, I longed to be in 2nd year, where I had heard and some others had tasted that the food tasted superb. But Nanda Devi Hostel (2nd year christened NDH in short) was again a no show as the control of the mess committee transferred into the final year seniors’ hands some of whom shared the hostel with us. This was where food tasted so great till last term and suddenly wasn’t even worth smelling this year.
Frustrated of the seemingly quality less food, this was when we became familiar with local restaurants – Adhikari & Mehra’s. They did serve food which was better than the hostel’s and perhaps much better than the hostel’s. Although it was rich in nature and costed us extra 200-300 bugs every week, but we didn’t mind it for the sake of our appetites which would definitely would have revolted had there been any more of those hostel meals. Only one time did I use to eat while in 2nd year in hostel mess, and that was the breakfast. It was partly because, I was habitual of rising early and the hot breakfast didn’t seem so bad. And yet another meal outside, would have showed badly on my wallet!!!
The aloo ka paranthas, chicken, paneer and mushroom were the regular stuff that we used to stuff our mouths with (and tummies too). The fast food was restricted to treats and the evening outings. And lord save the retailers there, the chilled packaged stuff was sold on rates more than MRPs!!! Once or twice, we encountered them with this cost situation and they calmly replied that the extra charge was for keeping them cold in refrigerator. As a result, the coke bottle for which I would have paid 7-8 Rs. at a normal place amounted to Rs. 10 and the ice cream of 15 Rs. was charged at Rs. 18 for keeping it the ‘ice’ cream…
Adding to our agony was another fact. By the starting of the 2nd year, the interaction with the girls had risen considerably (it was kept hush-hush till now, because of the ragging practices in college) and by now they had started enjoying and analyzing the mess food as well. They didn’t actually switch over to a new mess because the hostel for them remained the same. And now since they could eat food with their heads held high (and not watching the third button, as in ragging period sharing the same table with seniors) it was easy to develop a taste for food. So when they told us that the food on their side (Read Gangotri Hostel, where 1st, 2nd & 3rd year girls were and so it was the heaven, out of reach for us) tasted extremely good, it was like a kick in the guts for all of us.
The third year (Gomukh Hostel) brought a wave of relief for us, for now we truly were kings of the mess and in addition, the facility for cooking one’s own food in the mess using its resources was given to us. Well, it went good…the third year and finally the mess committee was working responsibly. To the dismay of the restaurants, their business from our batch dropped to an all time low. There were a couple of hiccups here and there during the menu making and management…but they were finally seen off. The students who managed the mess decided to cut the flab during the sixth semester and toned the menu a bit down in order to save some money for the students. It was met with fierce response from some of us like me, who were the self-confessed foodies of the batch but ultimately we decided to switch again to the Mehra’s and the battle subsided.
Final Years’ was supposedly the best mess in all college and I was more than eager to be in it. One more enchanting feature of the Kailash Hostel was the canteen juxtaposed to it. Much to my dismay, the committee for the final year changed (those who were in third year were tired and retired from the constant nagging of fellow students). And those who were in-charge in the final year never heeded to the response. One of them, when ever complained to, made a face so pathetic that even the others around him mould cry for his state. Yet another was so happy with his decisions and the state of food that he never saw a fault in what he did. So it was once again me and Mehra’s, lone companions enjoying night after night after night of meals. We never let the chickens flourish and new varieties of paneer were introduced on request. Even the canteen owner got a kick out of me and decided to start making proper dining meals in addition to fast food this year. I had to settle a bill in the order of thousands of rupees on my exit from the college.
And now that I am eating ‘mummy ke haath ka khana’, temporarily, I miss banging the plate with the spoon and shouting, “Roti lao, kaamchoron!” between the helpings of the chapattis. I miss those late night discussions of the food that we dreamt of eating and that still allures us and the things that we could do to the mess committee guys for destroying our appetites. Yeah, I miss them badly.
But utmost is another fear. In just a couple of weeks, I’ll be in Delhi, working and living on my own and unless I find a sasta-saaf-achha dhaba, I’ll have to cook for myself. Lord save me from myself, all I know right now is how to boil the water.
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