Both alike in dignity

Nizamuddin East's two cafés spark lively debates among locals, featuring celebrity patrons, similar vibes, but differing amenities and hours.

Two cafés both alike in dignity, in fair “Niz East” where we lay our scene.

The old café stands across the lane from a Mother Dairy booth, close to a luscious peepal tree.

Today’s tale is set in tony Nizamuddin East. The central Delhi address is filled with bungalows, apartments, parks, and trees. It is also full of celebrity residents—salam Mira Nair, namaste Vikram Seth. Even so, the place is very sleepy. Nothing much is seen outside the grand residences, except for the well-fed community dogs.

Finally, the “colony” got some action. Some time ago, a café opened in Niz East. The development doubles the number of cafés in the locality to… two! Inevitably, the fashionable locals, super-argumentative in dissecting highbrow literature, have lately been exchanging notes on the comparative qualities of the two cafés. Here is our humble contribution to the chatter underway in one of Delhi’s most exclusive mohallas.

The old café stands across the lane from a Mother Dairy booth, close to a luscious peepal tree. The new café stands close to Raghunath Mandir, close to another luscious peepal tree, not far from the site of yet another demolished bungalow that is giving way to an apartment complex.

This afternoon, Kalu, a black dog, is snoozing outside the old café’s glass door. While Lado, a black dog, is snoozing outside the new café’s glass door.

Jazz music is playing in the old café. Jazz music is also playing in the new café.

For the moment, a pair of lawyers are occupying a table in the old café—you could make out their profession by their loud talk. Another pair of lawyers are occupying a table in the new café—they too aren’t talking subtly. Indeed, these days, veteran Niz East locals tend to crib on the alleged “invasion” of lawyers in their “homely” neighbourhood. (A late author’s park-facing apartment, for instance, has become a law firm’s office.)

Both cafés are patronised by important figures. One afternoon, an internationally celebrated photographer, who resides in the locality, was sighted in the old café, tapping away on her laptop. Apparently, she is an old café traditionalist. Another afternoon, the bureau chief of an influential foreign newspaper, who too resides in the locality, was sighted in the new café, tapping away on his laptop. He has to be the new café loyalist—for he has been seen here too many times.

Whatever, both cafés are tiny, and pricey… umm, maybe not pricey for the swish Niz East gentry.

Last and least: The toilet in the old café’s toilet doesn’t have a bidet spray (only toilet paper roll). The new café has both.

Turtle (see left photo) shuts daily by 8pm. Ruby’s shuts by 8pm.