An adventurous trip to a Hyderabadi bazaar

An odyssey suggests a long and arduous journey. And yet, when the Taj Krishna’s effervescent Mamta Singh suggests we try their brief Deccan Odyssey (yes, an oxymoron) in Hyderabad’s old city, we don’t think twice. We hop into a three-wheeler and plunge into the heart of the city; its arteries, veins and capillaries laid bare, daring us to negotiate the maze.

At Charminar, Hyderabad’s famous landmark, we alight from our auto rickshaw amidst a cacophony of sounds and sights that clamour for our attention all at once. For a second we’re like deer frozen in front of a headlight until our guide gently takes us by the arm to Nimrah Cafe and Bakery, thus following the cardinal rule of tourism: never set out on an empty stomach. It’s a recommended genuflection on the map; and when you step in, you’re once again caught in the heightened frenzy of breakfast activity. Here’s what I recommend: Order a platter of everything: biscuits, including their famous melt-in-the-mouth Osmanias, a platter of cakes (sliced or  muffins), brun maska and dive into the degustation. Wash it down with Irani chai that’s getting rarer these days and pack a kilo of their delicious Osmanias for folks back home. As we order, the waiter helpfully asks us to wait for five minutes since the current biscuits are "not fresh". But insiders know "not fresh" means they have just been an hour out of the oven. Osmanias are sold out in minutes and the bakery has to keep producing batches by the hour!

If you’ve been to Mumbai’s Lohar Chawl, navigating the tiny lanes of Laad Bazaar should be a cake walk. But it’s not for the faint-hearted. Laad Bazaar got its name in the colonial times, when the ‘Lads’ and Ladies would use the road to get to the Chowmahalla Palace yonder. Today it has a multitude of shops selling glittering goods: from Hyderabad’s famous laath bangles, zari borders and sequinned lace to another arm of the lane dotted with pearl shops. Look at it, if you will, like a mall spread out horizontally, complete with a food court (in this case a lane of food) that sells everything from the regular 'haleem and malpuas' all laid out in its oily glory, to the Chinese exotica ‘noodals and shahzewan fry rice’. We give it a skip and instead, stop at a quaint shop with benches outside, selling biryani masala (the not-to -be-missed Hyderabadi biryani) to a jar of honey flushed with dry fruit for your daily energy fix.

A few tips from a now seasoned Laad Bazaar tripper: haggle away. If you don’t you’ll upset the economy of the lanes. Shop keepers expect that little courtesy from you. Another thing, don’t attempt manouvering the lanes on foot, while they’re safe, you could end up in a tizzy. Instead, harness the help of an auto  (and haggle again). He'll drive  you through the miniscule by-lanes with the ease and familiarity of a chicken crossing the street.  Wear flat comfortable shoes, carry drinking water and on your head should rest a P cap  or a hat. Finally, once the Odyssey satisfactorily concludes as ours most definitely does, with bagfuls of fake pearls, glittering bangles, energising honey, yards of lace and sequinned dupattas flooding the rickshaw, we head to where it all began: the Taj Krishna.

While just a few minutes ago we sipped a Fanta with three outstretched hands begging for the bottle, we could sip our martini undisturbed. The malpua we nibbled on earlier has transformed into a smorgasbord of  tiny desserts in the 24-hour coffee shop. The cowpats and blaring horns of the busy streets are replaced with jasmine, roses and the tinkle of house music. We wonder about this shift from chaos to calm, from frenzy to efficiency, from zest to zeal. Can a 20-minute ride from one place to another albeit in the centre of the city deliver this stark contrast? From the confines of our rooms above, the answer comes to us.  There are several large city sprawls, huddled  like a nest of tables. You get to decide which chip of the same block you want to be at. Right now we prefer to let the zipping memories of Laad Bazaar fill our heads as we settle into a turn-down service by the Taj Krishna valet, who ensures that no corner is unturned as we settle cosily into bed.