I had been hearing about Govind Bhai’s dosa bandi for a few years now. Its location near Charminar (in a lane off Chaarkamaan) quite fascinated me. The idea of a significant number of people from the ‘old city’ trooping to a bandi to eat a Dosa or an Idli intrigued me.

For some strange reason, ever since I heard about Govind, it had become difficult for me to make the trip to the bylanes of Charminar and check out the stuff and the scene. Many a date fixed with my dear friend Harshvardhan Khemani who was actually the first guy who told me about it had to be cancelled for some reason or the other.

But this morning, the stars seem to have agreed to let me go and go we did for an amazing trip into wonderland. Thank you Harsh.

The first doubt that was clarified enroute was that the bandi was frequented by a lot of the marwari / kayasth hindu population who live in the old city and are possibly responsible for the reputation (mostly) of communal harmony that we enjoy. And true enough to expectations, the bandi was surrounded by a few cars and many people, all standing in a kind of make believe queue, awaiting their dosas or whatever.

Govind Bhai unfortunately had taken the day off, but Gopal mia who stood behind the 3 feet long sizzling stone slab seemed to be handling the crowd with aplomb.

Having parked our car, we found a strategic point to park ourselves and the process of wriggling into line was faithfully begun. The trick was to nudge our way to the front of the crowd and engage in a one-on-one with the Chef because that was the only key to succeeding in getting your order serviced promptly.

In line obviously were veterans of this battlefield and it took a magical combination of muscle and manners to walk deeper into the circles and finally get up close and personal with the Chef’s Assistant.

That is also when I got my first glimpse of how the dosa was cooked, or the way the cookie crumbled.

Now, follow me closely. Look at the sizzle slab as it gets a final splash of water before a small katori spreads the dosa dough on it. One. Two. Three…and finally Six. Six dosas begin to take shape.

And that’s where the similarity to other dosa bandis ends. The first ingredient that rudely lands on the centre of the dosa, each dosa, is a lump of Amul or Vijaya Butter. A semi molten cube about 2 inches cube, the butter immediately begins to melt in the face of the intense heat. But then the speedy hands of the Chef sprinkle on the butter, wallops of ‘kaaram podi’ (Chilly based Powder), dollops of finely cut onions, some kothmeer and the whole mush is flattened into a goulash that covers the dosa.

A quick flip and a Playboy worthy centrefold and the dosa is ready. To be dunked in Chutney and crowned with the ‘Kaaram Podi’…and then served on finely printed newspaper tearaways.

A similar exercise is followed to butter fry the idlis and to crispify the vadas.

There is a blue can that stores sachets of chilled mineral water and a blue can for garbage disposal.

The dosa when eaten tastes like a blob of butter with a dosa wrapped around it. But the taste grows on you…even as you are struggling to fight the guilt of having broken several rules of healthy eating.

While all this is going on, I find the regulars welcoming us to the club…including us in fly by conversations…smiling at us as the enjoyment begins to tell on our faces. We are all friends…we are all devotees at a unique temple of the Dosa God.

And we are happy campers by a mile. Can I have another dosa please…with an upma filling if you please?