Hyderabad’s next Top Mallu food joint EP 8 & 9 – Water scarcity and the Swedish Somali Mafia

This 30 day series will follow the day to day lives of 3 dudes who have been given the responsibility of opening a mallu restaurant in the city of Hyderabad. None of us have any experience in this vertical prior to this and we are all learning as we go. I thought it would been an interesting idea to join my mates in this quest and document our journey day to day and learn a little bit about the restaurant business and a little bit about ourselves. Expect things to be funny, dramatic and sometimes down right absurd, cause the characters involved have all the attributes to turn this thing on its head. So hopefully, by the end of the month, we will have Hyderabad’s top mallu restaurant.( The metrics of comparison are not quite sure for me at the moment.) But when you and your best mates decide to give it a go. At least all of us will have some fun with it. 




Back home. Whenever the water motor shuts down or if the corporation supply goes missing( Which is like once in a decade occurrence.) What we do is put a bucket into the well and get some water up. Never have there been a situation where an option was not there regarding water. 

This year in Chennai. When we know the water aint coming in the morning. We fill our buckets at night the day before. And when we are proper fucked. They brought in a tanker. The water shortage was so acute that there had been rumours of the semester being shortened. Unfortunately that did not materialise. I still remember when, on the day of the hostel night I went in search of water for a shower. I had to go to Ganga, Get a shower. I didn’t have to take a shower. But I am so glad that I did. 😉 ( You know why)

So, every time I leave Kerala, the water shortage is a real and present danger. Especially in the big cities. My classmate Sanjana wrote this Instagram post about that. Explaining the water scarcity situation in India and I think it is worth a read. 

Here are the posts-




                                                          ( CREDITS : Sanjana  @ja.san.na)  

So, when you are trying to run a restaurant. Especially one which is not an ideal restaurant like ours. The water scarcity thing is a big concern. We have been living of the municipal water for the time being. Being very frugal on our consumption. ( Meaning cutting short a flush half way if the intended purpose is done.) But even that couldn’t help us from running out eventually. So we have 3 tanks upstairs. One down. And a tank underground. Plus 6 drums to store water. At one point, we didn’t have water to wash hands, let alone plates.

So that night, Chandrettan made it clear that we were not going to be able to open the place if water doesn’t show up. The municipal water flows on alternate days and that too very little. You would have to be very loco to bet on that. So Jeevan and I’ve been trying to find a tanker that can get us some water. So here is the thing with tankers. They are fucking big. 15k lit. All our tanks together can only do 4k lit. So every number we call. Its the same reply.They don’t have small tankers. This went on till around 9 until we found one small tanker filling up the PG next door. I  ask the dude for the number and the motherfucker says “ nahi, no pani and no number” in a very high handed way. Cunt.

But I got the number off from an another tanker parked behind it and finally got a tanker to fill us. FOR FUCKING 2000 rupees. The other place used to get 5k lits for around Rs 800. This guy was milking us when he knows we are desperate for water. Anyways, we got enough water to go to sleep with the knowledge that the flush will be working tomorrow.

With inventory done and water in the tank. We called it a day.

The next day went ahead without much incident. I went to Narsingi in the afternoon for a change. We hit a few orders on the bounce, right when we got there. Then the tab went dead. And the comfortable couch there became our hibernation den. Until the evening, when we went out to get a flex printed and a few bottles for Jeevans cousin. I asked him to get a Bira for me and the idiot got me something which costs 230. The worst part is, it doesn’t taste like beer. It tastes like beer for under developed pre teens. 4% alcohol content and 230 RS. WHY?

I made Jeevan have a taste of the beer. Just so he will feel how much money he wasted. But 5 mins down the road. There is a road block. The cops are making anything that moves blow into the alcohol level detector. Situation fucked.

I hide that bottle I was drinking. Anyone who sees Odiyan and us inside knows that there is some mischief here. But maybe our tired faces and the state of that zen made the cops think that we are too poor to buy a drink. They let us go. They made everyone else blow. But we were let through. Jeevan was not drunk and driving. But the detector will still beep for that sip. For once, the very first time. Our luck favoured us. 

We were celebrating like how Ryan Giggs did when he scored against arsenal in 99. It was epic. And on a celebratory note. We had one more sip :p.

While taking a U-turn, we see a car broken down. With 4 homies around it. ( And by homies I mean Africans or African – Americans).

This dude who reminds me of Poet from COPA90 asks. “ Bruv, help us out. You know any gas station?”

Jeevan was spooked. There is this zoom car full of intoxicated Africans. Most people will try to get away from that situation since it carries an element of risk with it. But since every time I have been fucked on my travels, the travel gods have always offered a helping hand. So by law of karma, it was our chance to be the hands of god. So two “Bruvs” pop in Odiyan. Ahmed and Mohamed was their names. Mo speaks like he is from North London. Literally like Poet. And he is a Gunner too. Too much coincidences. That made me shift to my fake urban accent. We had a really nice conversation. I was on a beer. God knows what all shit he was on. Jeevan looked like someone who watches a Korean series without subtitles when this was happening. Hilarious.

We get fuel and plan to drop them back off. Mind you, Odiyan lacks wipers and we almost dislocate the differential when a blind gutter gutted us. Ahmed gets some sense back on him. We are moving towards their car. I get Mo’s number and they are really cool dudes. Students of Osmania university. He studies political science. They are of Somali descendent, living in Sweden. 

They speak, their tribal language, Swaheli, Swedish, English and better Hindi than me. 

Now, Africans have been stereotyped in India as being exclusively drug dealers selling all sort of shit. Now it would be a great crime on my part if I did the same. But come on, when you meet a bro. Its only natural to ask them if they have a Joe on them. And it was obvious these guys were packing. And as a token of their appreciation for our benevolent efforts. We score a bunch. By score, I mean exchange our karma points for a few grams. 

The smile on Nobles face when he heard this. Was intense. After a long interval of time. I was high again. And there is this subreddt called “ people dying on the inside”. When you are high, it is the most insane thing you can watch. My laugh made Chandrettan get up and see what was happening. Fuck my life. And Jeevan got upset at me laughing like I was enjoying everything in life.
Potteda muthwe. Next time onnu pidipikam


I thought it would be a good idea to create a problem solving group for this where I can crowd source ideas and get some insights from anyone who is interested in how a restaurant works. We can trade a lot of information from the business end and you can help us out with your suggestions and ideas on the finer details. I am attaching this Whatsapp group link. If you are interested. Do come and be part of this 30 day tryst with destiny. 

Whats App group  link – https://chat.whatsapp.com/GME8ruaTrIK1HLtznnqUb2

And if you live in Hyder. Try our specialities on the link – https://www.swiggy.com/restaurants/bamboo-foodz-marwa-township-narsingi-and-kokapet-hyderabad-89740

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