13/11/2020
Baobab trees can live for over 3,000 years. Ours died in two years.
When the entire world was locked down about 8 months ago in March, it so happened that all us owners were at Baobab the night before, as if by some design. We looked around happily. Little did we know that this was the last time this place would ring with laughter and happy shrieks. With muzak and aroma. With children running freely, in the beautifully landscaped exterior, as adults sip their drinks in the warm light with plush interiors. No one knew.
We run Barometer. And the adjoining New International Permit Room and Bar. Barometer is our first baby. So, it’s a little pampered. Naturally. NIPR is a quirk. It was conceived in an inebriated state, we didn’t know what we were thinking. It’s a wild child. It took its own shape. It’s also a bit misbehaved and rambunctious. But we are okay with it as you don’t put a saddle on a mustang.
But it was Baobab who was our pride. Our boy to be shown off. The bellwether at Mills. Everything about it was special. This isn’t about notches in the belt but the menu was complex and eclectic. The cocktails were innovative and stylish. The staff polished and helpful. The floor was done twice to get that perfect arc. The shade of red demanded heated arguments. Roof tiles travelled a thousand kilometres to then sit atop in a mathematical discipline. It took God six days to create this world and we took six months to build Baobab. Guests loved the quiet, subdued sit-down fine dine in. The walls resonated with anniversaries, birthdays, proposals, farewell dinners, secrets, gossips, conversations, fights et al. Evenings lit up with amazing Jazz performances. The steam escaping from boiled peanuts cart thrilled the wealthy patrons. The display kitchen gleamed and the chandeliers glittered and the table lights shone and the cutlery glistened and thus Baobab sparkled yet never screamed. But there’s a difference between truth and plausibility. Success is a fickle creature.
So, what occasioned this? Let us be unambiguous. It’s important to draw open the curtains every now and then. The most probable reason for it to fall apart more than the pandemic was that we as owners faltered somewhere down the road. Though everything was in place we couldn’t stand to this world which has married excel sheets. We couldn’t keep the fire going. Our voices cracked right when the guests screamed for more music. It was tragically unfun because it’s not a Charles Dickens world. We watered it. Trimmed it. Loved it. We cared for it but truth be told, the fact remains that we obviously failed. So, instead of continuing with this onerous task, to switch off the lights seemed a more pragmatic approach. We couldn’t understand business from a tree trunk (literally)! Today afternoon, when we stepped in for the final adieu, the towering Dali on one of the walls was shushing us as usual. But today he was also inviting us to mourn. In silence. Because when Baobabs die, they don’t make a sound. They rot inside and suddenly collapse.
Our hearts are bereft, but we continue. People always stop themselves right when they are on the precipice, but we don’t wish to stop. We cannot obliterate this loss and the quintessential spring in our step will take time to return but return it will. We embrace our failure with grace and dignity. In tragedy lies an opportunity. Hope is the thing with feathers, insists Dickinson. Most from the staff, who at this time, were our most immediate concern, have been absorbed into our other two restaurants. In days to come, we all will be either at Barometer or NIPR. Do drop in. Just for a hello. A small wave. A little jiggle. Though we cannot hug in these unprecedented times, we believe your warmth will reach us. Thank you, for the show of faith. Thank you life, for this lesson.
In dire straits, Alice always comes to rescue! So here we go:
“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.
“I don’t much care where—” said Alice.
“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat.
“—so long as I get somewhere,” Alice added as an explanation.
“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.”
