I Am Homeward Bound Chronicles

I have always innately believed in ‘Incredible India’ and this wonderful experience in a small café in an unexplored hill-station in South India,affirmed just that.

I walked down the road, basking in the beauty and of this beautiful,rustic town. An aroma of freshly baked bread and a sweet smell wafted from a small, obscure place I hadn’t noticed as yet.The name, "Pastry Corner" pulled me in.The tantalizing scent intensified as a batch of delicious cake slices were just brought in from a van.
“Have some cake, Amma!”,said a man,and handed me a tissue with two slices of hot and fresh plum cake. “We bake it fresh here.”

One bite and my mouth exploded with the most delicious cake without icing I had ever tasted.The ghee combined with the juicy plums made me feel weak with pleasure.The brown crust melted on my tongue and within minutes,I was licking my sticky fingers.

“Have some more Amma.” Before I knew it,I had 2 more pieces. By then I felt much too embarrassed to be eating without a purchase and I promptly bought the plum loaf, some puffs and rolls, a date cake and a roll of bread. Topped with some homemade pear,plum and strawberry preserve,I had everything I needed all packed in a brown paper bag.

Oh, I spent that day in a daze, finishing up what I bought and turned up everyday during my trip, for my breakfast. We chatted everyday and he gave me useful tips to enjoy my trip and of course recommended the eateries, unbeknown to the public glare, serving a sumptuous meal.
This morning, was different though!

While I made my choices, several raggedy looking men and children came in and were all treated to the same cake I was, without any expectation of a purchase. I was puzzled and I asked my new friend,who said, “Oh, we keep half of the cakes just to give away! Everyone should have a piece of cake, especially this one, right Amma?”

I was stunned.Staying in a commercial city,competing in the rat race made me so mindful of money,that this simple gesture seemed foreign.

I learnt that the pastry shop had no branches and that he ran the place with his sister.The sister supervised the factory from where their cakes, breads, rolls, puffs, pizzas and preserves made their way. Their repertoire of ice-creams had sated my sweet tooth every day. I asked him if I could take his photo and blog about him.

“No, no Amma! Don’t make us famous. We are just a small shop in a small town.” He said as he grinned.

A fresh batch of cake had already made its way into the shop.