Saturday's blast at the German Bakery in Pune, is discussed at a cafe in one of Paharganj's lanes with almost a sense of déjà vu. Like Pune, the German Bakery in Paharganj is located close to the Chabad house. The two bakeries are more than just namesakes. Both were set up in part by a German named Norman who traversed India, setting up German Café’s wherever he travelled. Both serve excellent baked treats-, strudels, bagels doughnuts and cakes. More recently, The German Bakery in Pune was the target of a terrorist bomb, while 18 people died in the 2005 blast outside M S Medicos, just down the road from the German Bakery in Delhi.
Set up in 1994 out of an old Royal Enfield Garage, Delhi’s German Bakery, also known as Ajay Café is a mini United Nations. At any point of time there will be people from America, France, Germany, Israel- Orthodox Jews with their black hats and payots (sidelocks), hippies with their coiled and matted hair and sunburnt backpackers with buzz cuts, all dining in the basement eatery.
Ujala, with her matted dreadlocks and Shiva digital print T Shirt, was sipping mint tea. A regular resident of the Osho Ashram, she says “I too stayed in Koregaon Park in Pune. The German Bakery was the café where I would hang out all the time.” Ujala reveals that her friend died in the blast. “The day after she died I and many of Nadia’s friends did not cry, instead we danced in her memory”. Flying back to Tel Aviv in a couple of days after four months in India, Ujala has no doubts that she will return for the fifth time. “I love India! Of course I will be back.”
Michael is the co-owner of Bubbles, a small shop in the corner of Ajay Café that sells quirky womens wear. Walking into his shop area with a load of embroidered jeans in his hand, he looks visibly tired. He has been living and working in India off and on since 1991. Over a Danish Chocolate roll he says, “Look I’m from Tel Aviv. We(israeli’s) have faced terrorism for years now. At some point I believe in karma. If something is going to happen to me, it’s going to happen to me.”
Owen, a 26 year old University of Queensland student who had just arrived in Delhi from Jaipur- a city which also has a German Bakery. “Huge portions and cheap prices” recalls Owen. He however is unfamiliar about the Pune blast. “Pune? Where is that? Did anyone get injured? ” On being told that 9 people had died in the incident, he said “Whenever I go to a conflict zone, in the back of my mind I am kind of expecting it to happen.” Denying any change of plans he says “I was in London at the time of the bus blasts (2005). I’m not going to let a terrorist decide where I have to go or what I should do. Otherwise, finally I will just be sitting at home, and doing nothing at all.”
Over the course of the day, the Bakery does not fill up. Srikanth, who mans the service counter says “It feels strange not to be serving many people, to be sitting idle for so long.” Rajesh Kumar, the manager of the German Bakery restaurant says “After any blasts in the country, there will be fewer foreign tourists showing up here. Attendance will come down by 15 to 20 percent, but barring any further blasts, it will pick up once again.”
Ajay Agarwal the proprietor of the German Bakery, points to the 5 CCTV cameras in place since 2007 and the newly bought metal detector and talks security. He says “Inside the restaurant it is my responsibility. I can ask my waiters and managers to be extra careful, but how can I guarantee that outside in the streets, nothing will happen? Every time some incident happens, the police will step up security for a few days, but in time, things will be back to as they were.” Around this time three plainclothes policemen come and make enquiries about the guests staying in the 36 room Ajay Guest House situated above the Bakery. They make their notes in a little book, and seemingly satisfied, leave.
Just about forty paces and two left turns from the German Bakery is Delhi’s Chabad House. Two rifle totting policemen guard the entrance and refuse to let anyone in. They have not been posted recently. They have been stationed there ever since 26/11.
Set up in 1994 out of an old Royal Enfield Garage, Delhi’s German Bakery, also known as Ajay Café is a mini United Nations. At any point of time there will be people from America, France, Germany, Israel- Orthodox Jews with their black hats and payots (sidelocks), hippies with their coiled and matted hair and sunburnt backpackers with buzz cuts, all dining in the basement eatery.
Ujala, with her matted dreadlocks and Shiva digital print T Shirt, was sipping mint tea. A regular resident of the Osho Ashram, she says “I too stayed in Koregaon Park in Pune. The German Bakery was the café where I would hang out all the time.” Ujala reveals that her friend died in the blast. “The day after she died I and many of Nadia’s friends did not cry, instead we danced in her memory”. Flying back to Tel Aviv in a couple of days after four months in India, Ujala has no doubts that she will return for the fifth time. “I love India! Of course I will be back.”
Michael is the co-owner of Bubbles, a small shop in the corner of Ajay Café that sells quirky womens wear. Walking into his shop area with a load of embroidered jeans in his hand, he looks visibly tired. He has been living and working in India off and on since 1991. Over a Danish Chocolate roll he says, “Look I’m from Tel Aviv. We(israeli’s) have faced terrorism for years now. At some point I believe in karma. If something is going to happen to me, it’s going to happen to me.”
Owen, a 26 year old University of Queensland student who had just arrived in Delhi from Jaipur- a city which also has a German Bakery. “Huge portions and cheap prices” recalls Owen. He however is unfamiliar about the Pune blast. “Pune? Where is that? Did anyone get injured? ” On being told that 9 people had died in the incident, he said “Whenever I go to a conflict zone, in the back of my mind I am kind of expecting it to happen.” Denying any change of plans he says “I was in London at the time of the bus blasts (2005). I’m not going to let a terrorist decide where I have to go or what I should do. Otherwise, finally I will just be sitting at home, and doing nothing at all.”
Over the course of the day, the Bakery does not fill up. Srikanth, who mans the service counter says “It feels strange not to be serving many people, to be sitting idle for so long.” Rajesh Kumar, the manager of the German Bakery restaurant says “After any blasts in the country, there will be fewer foreign tourists showing up here. Attendance will come down by 15 to 20 percent, but barring any further blasts, it will pick up once again.”
Ajay Agarwal the proprietor of the German Bakery, points to the 5 CCTV cameras in place since 2007 and the newly bought metal detector and talks security. He says “Inside the restaurant it is my responsibility. I can ask my waiters and managers to be extra careful, but how can I guarantee that outside in the streets, nothing will happen? Every time some incident happens, the police will step up security for a few days, but in time, things will be back to as they were.” Around this time three plainclothes policemen come and make enquiries about the guests staying in the 36 room Ajay Guest House situated above the Bakery. They make their notes in a little book, and seemingly satisfied, leave.
Just about forty paces and two left turns from the German Bakery is Delhi’s Chabad House. Two rifle totting policemen guard the entrance and refuse to let anyone in. They have not been posted recently. They have been stationed there ever since 26/11.
(This article was published in Express Newsline- the city variant of the Indian Express)
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