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As the sun begins its downward spiral
through the particle-rich Bangalore skies, happy hours run
out of time and cash registers begin to tingle. In watering
holes across the city, waiters get ready for business as their
call-centre regulars slither out, awakening to the prospect
of a long night tending to distraught American customers.
As the rest of the drinking population wander in, they gaze
out jealously at a city ready to roll up its sleeves and let
its hair down.
The software professional or office executive isn’t bothered
by such rigours, having been brought up on a steady 9-5 diet.
Nor does the bubblegum generation, armed with disposable incomes
and a tremendous lack of dignity about staking a claim in
next day’s People pages.
In this tech-obsessed Southern Indian city, deadlines, work
pressures, and cops intent on spoiling the party fall prostrate
in the face of low alcohol prices and more than a rightful
share of excellent drinking spots. Originally intended for
homesick Britishers – most Bangaloreans will happily
recount how Lieutenant Winston Churchill still owes The Bangalore
Club a princely sum of 13 rupees – thirsty for Ole Blighty,
the city’s boozers are spoilt for choice these days,
though the English-style pub has morphed into something uniquely
Bangalorean.
A pool table is the main attraction at Downtown on Residency
Road, immediately giving it points over Pub World, directly
opposite it. The first of the legitimate pubs in Bangalore,
Pub World is actually four pubs in one. The music is generic
dance music and pop; its family section still attracts women
in silk sarees swigging their beers.
The Tavern in Museum Inn on Museum
Road miraculously stays l open even after the confused, archaic
11:30 curfew imposed on all
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establishments
in Bangalore, remaining packed till about two in the morning.
It also happens to employ a DJ with surprisingly good musical
fortitude. If you don’t balk when a Yes extravaganza
segues into a Nirvana ditty, then it’s the place for you.
Step out of Tavern, and the aroma of dosa and chicken curry
reminds you of the presence of Hotel Empire, which usually ends
up feeding pub-hoppers swaying out of The Tavern and The Nightwatchman
next door.
In the early 90s, local rock bands like Warden and Crimson Storm
thundered away inside its corridors. Beyond the millennium,
things have quietened down at The Nightwatchman, nee 19, Church
Street. So Booze and Brains, a quiz programme was formulated
on Thursdays to bring in the crowds. Beer is on the house for
the tables with the most points, ensuring that trivia enthusiasts
stay as long as humanly possible. During the rest of the week,
one can choose to nurse your beer in an old English-styled pub.
Guzzler’s Inn on Rest House Road is just a short hop from
Pecos. Styled as a country-western bar, Guzzler’s goes
berserk when the techie chilling out with friends hears the
first strains of Hotel California or Smoke on the Water; immediately,
imaginary guitars get plugged into make-believe amps and the
spotlight shifts to the mustachioed gentleman who has had one
too many. Apart from some of the best draught beer in Bangalore,
Guzzler’s also offers a snooker parlour upstairs that customers
who need a respite from Rammstein and Deep Purple.
If there’s one Bangalore institution where it’s mainly
about the music, it has to be Pecos. Generally lacking the desire
to expand, innovate or impress, Pecos venerates lethargy and
flower power. Its three floors and narrow stairways are the
refuge of the ageing hippie, the college student on his lunch
break, and the disheveled copywriter who keeps his tab running
while stepping outside to knock down a few cheap ones at Brigade
Fuel, a shady bar next door.
It’s impossible to comprehend the cult following that Pecos
enjoys. There’s only draught beer on the menu, which sometimes
comes in un-beer like consistencies, and both the sound system
and the service is sketchy. On the other hand, a pitcher comes
with free popcorn, a mug of beer costs only 35 rupees, they
serve decent English breakfasts and lunches, and Pecos cards
do guarantee you a free beer after you drink ten. Sadly-illustrated
sketches of dead rock legends and witty self- |
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promotion, gifted
to the managementby the copywriting crowd, give the place an
epic air. At any given time, you can find Jerry Garcia look-alikes
vying for attention with the kurta-wearing intellectual with
a passion for Frank Zappa bootlegs.
With no space to expand, Pecos did the next best thing: it opened
Mojos on Residency Road. The only thing both of them have in
common though is the lack of any other alcohol but beer, and
possibly, the three well-worn classic rock and jazz tapes that
Pecos owns. Young women can be found in abundant numbers, showing
off their knowledge of rock ‘n’ roll and sharing eyeball
space with posters of John Lennon and Black Sabbath. The route
to the restroom is a tedious one through a standing room packed
with mug-wielding customers. Some Saturdays you can find upcoming
and established Bangalore bands claiming floor space with their
brands of sonic indulgence.
The older crowd heads to Nineteen Twelve on St. Marks Road,
housed in a Tudor-style building built in 1912, with various
levels and a tiled courtyard. It’s more lounge than pub,
with a piano and a guitar in the courtyard for customers wishing
to plug their own music. One can sit at the mahogany bar sipping
beer either out of silver mugs or goli soda bottles, bottles
with a glass marble inside.
Styx on M.G.Road mainly caters to kids lacking eardrums. A billboard
outside baits the rock worshipper with the promise of Sepultura
and Slayer, ensuring he steps straight into a bilious blast
of aggro-rock. The beer is top-notch and the DJs entertain requests
when they’re done spinning Metallica singles. Thursdays,
however, are good Styxian days, when the aural assault makes
way for obscure, interesting bands with unpronounceable names.
There’s a cover charge of Rs.200 on Saturdays, which the
gateman waives for regulars.
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PUB FACTS |
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•
Most Bangalore pubs offer quite an extensive menu of bites
to go with beer, though the ‘pub-grub’ is more
on the lines of chicken tikka and the infamous chicken
manchurian than fish n’ chips.
• A mug of Kingfisher
beer on tap costs 30 - 95 rupees (US$0.65 - US$2.00)
• For listings,
check www.explocity.com
or the printed version CityInfo
available at all newsstands and bookshops. |
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