<p>Gandhi Bazaar’s iconic dosa destination Vidyarthi Bhavan boasts more than one link to the Freedom Movement. For one, the hordes of hungry souls of all ages and descriptions surging against the great grilled barricade, waiting to gate crash into the restaurant, are a stark reminder of the freedom fighters crowding outside the prison gates, ready to make a sacrifice for the country’s freedom.</p>.<p>Just as those nationalists waited for the jailer to call out their names from his register, the anxious diners outside Vidyarthi Bhavan are all ears as the restaurant’s attender, with a notebook in his hand, shouts out names of the next ones to be let in.</p>.<p>And much like the selfless activists who went on fasts to earn their freedom, the ravenous customers endure hours of starvation before they bite into their favourite, crispy sagu masala dosa.</p>.<p>Every satyagrahi worth his salt would be proud of the patience these famished fans of the curry-filled wrap display just to break its crispy crust.</p>.<p>And while it’s finally self-rule for the freedom fighters, it’s selfie time for the restaurant’s customers, with beaming smiles amid satisfied burps.</p>.<p>But there’s one interesting anecdote that is associated with the restaurant that explains why the restaurant is closed on Fridays.</p>.<p><a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/tag/india75" target="_blank"><strong>Track full coverage of Independence Day here</strong></a></p>.<p>According to Arun Adiga, who manages the establishment that was established in 1943, on the day India earned her independence, Gandhi Bazaar was agog with the nationalist spirit, with people rejoicing. Saligrama Parameshwara Ural, the then proprietor of Vidyarthi Bhavan, reached his eatery well ahead of the usual opening hour and asked his kitchen staff to dish out a huge quantity of sweet preparation and bring out baskets full of the dish to the restaurant’s entrance and offered it to the crowd to celebrate the big day. The chefs worked extra time to concoct the sweet to serve the milling crowds. As a mark of appreciation and overcome by the patriotic spirit Ural gave his staff a day off. The day happened to be a Friday and since then, the restaurant shuts its big gates to customers on Fridays.</p>.<p>Symbols of the freedom spirit are all-pervasive as the restaurant, tucked away near a corner of a thoroughfare named after the Father of the Nation, still retains its old-world charm. A sense of unity that marked the freedom movement is clearly evident with customers sharing tables with perfect strangers, all brought together by Adiga’s celebrated dosas, as they all happily dig into the famous dish under the benevolent gaze of freedom fighters, writers and poets whose pen sketches adorn the walls of the cosy eatery.</p>.<p>“Gandhi Bazaar is a hub of activity and people always congregated here to take part in rallies. And Vidyarathi Bhavan was a haunt for all these activists, writers and litterateurs, who discussed and debated issues over a bite and a sip of coffee here,” says Adiga, who recalls that he used to feel a thrill when his father would come home and tell them that great personalities had dropped in at their restaurant.</p>.<p>“The pen sketches of these luminaries that adorn our walls are our way of honouring them and also serve as a topic of lively discussion for our customers, as they wait for their sizzling dosas to arrive,” adds Adiga.</p>.<p><em>(The author is a DH journalist & a foodie)</em></p>
<p>Gandhi Bazaar’s iconic dosa destination Vidyarthi Bhavan boasts more than one link to the Freedom Movement. For one, the hordes of hungry souls of all ages and descriptions surging against the great grilled barricade, waiting to gate crash into the restaurant, are a stark reminder of the freedom fighters crowding outside the prison gates, ready to make a sacrifice for the country’s freedom.</p>.<p>Just as those nationalists waited for the jailer to call out their names from his register, the anxious diners outside Vidyarthi Bhavan are all ears as the restaurant’s attender, with a notebook in his hand, shouts out names of the next ones to be let in.</p>.<p>And much like the selfless activists who went on fasts to earn their freedom, the ravenous customers endure hours of starvation before they bite into their favourite, crispy sagu masala dosa.</p>.<p>Every satyagrahi worth his salt would be proud of the patience these famished fans of the curry-filled wrap display just to break its crispy crust.</p>.<p>And while it’s finally self-rule for the freedom fighters, it’s selfie time for the restaurant’s customers, with beaming smiles amid satisfied burps.</p>.<p>But there’s one interesting anecdote that is associated with the restaurant that explains why the restaurant is closed on Fridays.</p>.<p><a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/tag/india75" target="_blank"><strong>Track full coverage of Independence Day here</strong></a></p>.<p>According to Arun Adiga, who manages the establishment that was established in 1943, on the day India earned her independence, Gandhi Bazaar was agog with the nationalist spirit, with people rejoicing. Saligrama Parameshwara Ural, the then proprietor of Vidyarthi Bhavan, reached his eatery well ahead of the usual opening hour and asked his kitchen staff to dish out a huge quantity of sweet preparation and bring out baskets full of the dish to the restaurant’s entrance and offered it to the crowd to celebrate the big day. The chefs worked extra time to concoct the sweet to serve the milling crowds. As a mark of appreciation and overcome by the patriotic spirit Ural gave his staff a day off. The day happened to be a Friday and since then, the restaurant shuts its big gates to customers on Fridays.</p>.<p>Symbols of the freedom spirit are all-pervasive as the restaurant, tucked away near a corner of a thoroughfare named after the Father of the Nation, still retains its old-world charm. A sense of unity that marked the freedom movement is clearly evident with customers sharing tables with perfect strangers, all brought together by Adiga’s celebrated dosas, as they all happily dig into the famous dish under the benevolent gaze of freedom fighters, writers and poets whose pen sketches adorn the walls of the cosy eatery.</p>.<p>“Gandhi Bazaar is a hub of activity and people always congregated here to take part in rallies. And Vidyarathi Bhavan was a haunt for all these activists, writers and litterateurs, who discussed and debated issues over a bite and a sip of coffee here,” says Adiga, who recalls that he used to feel a thrill when his father would come home and tell them that great personalities had dropped in at their restaurant.</p>.<p>“The pen sketches of these luminaries that adorn our walls are our way of honouring them and also serve as a topic of lively discussion for our customers, as they wait for their sizzling dosas to arrive,” adds Adiga.</p>.<p><em>(The author is a DH journalist & a foodie)</em></p>