On a usual day I wouldn’t think twice before zipping from one corner of the city to the other to meet someone or even visit any restaurant. I miss the everyday sights of the city. Like the shopping madness at Charminar or the countless tourists clapping at the clapping corridor, in the hope that someone from the main dilapidated palace responds. The empty roads and closed shops is making the city I have lived in for two decades feel different. Different in a not so cheerful manner. And until the lockdown sent us home, I didn’t realise how a good cup of coffee can be a luxury. So, when all this ends, I will head to my favourite coffee shop for a cup of Monsoon Malabar.
I haven’t met a lot of my friends for long. If everything goes well, we plan to head to the Old City for the customary Ramzan tour. Instead of doing the night Ramzan walk, to avoid crowds, we have decided to do a morning walk this year, just to re-visit the stories and places we have written about over so many years, led by a friend who takes pride in being a historian.
I am also missing is the freedom to roam around, which I would do every Ramzan weekend. I want to check out the haleem and do Ramzan season shopping like buying hand-made semiyan and laddoo semiyan from Old City. I am not a big Irani chai fan, but can never say no to the flaky tea-biscuit.
If going to the Old City is not possible, my friends and I are sure to head out to some unexplored corner of Golconda, and enjoy the view of the city until it gets hot and sunny
