ABOUT 500 WORDS
I call it the Koshy’s Syndrome after the popular restaurant on St Mark’s Road in Bengaluru. Koshy’s is an institution, and if you sit there long enough you will meet everyone you know in the city, perhaps the country even.
You also meet, and engage in animated conversation with, people whose names you don’t know even at the fifth or sixth meeting. Often when you walk in and notice that these nameless (in your mind) friends aren’t there, you are disappointed. You feel cheated. What is the use of going to Koshy’s if you don’t get to meet, or at least wave at, the regulars?
