The Belly Dance Bar and Restaurant

After another satisfying trip to Banchha Ghar my colleague and I decided it was a bit too early to call it a night. The casinos were an option, diagnosis generic but having tried out most of them, information pills I was not keen. Fleetingly, I mentioned a restaurant that had been in my eyes for long; however, I had been wary of going there alone. It had some of the most corny music playing always, and I had an inclination from the dimly lit sign-board what to expect. Catching at the slightest nod from the colleague, G, I pulled him towards the Belly Dance Bar and Restaurant, on the main Darbar Marg.

Even before we could enter the slim entrance, shady and dirty, with the walls and staircase with myriad graffiti, G remarked, “Man, this seems sleazy!”

I laughed out aloud. “Adventure, my friend” and continued my confident stride up the stairs. What hit us when we reached the first floor restaurant cannot be described by the mild term ‘sleazy’. The dark interiors beckoned with flashy strobe lights, and an ill-clad, hefty girl was dancing to some cheap and loud Hindi film number. A plethora of girls caught us at the entrance, and literally pulled us into the cavernous interiors. To say G was scandalized would be an understatement. However, I played along. The girls piled on, forcing us to drink something. In one far off corner, two guys sat with garishly dressed ladies. Behind us, a couple was snuggling cozily. As one of the girls pestered, I ordered my forbidden second drink ( I had the first at Banchcha Ghar), and poor G settled for a coke (he is a tee-totaller).

The raunchy music played on; at the stage, the same hefty girl, with a belly the size of an of over-done pitcher, danced to the shady number “Log aate hain log jaate hain, pyaas apne dilon ki bujhate hai, raat din husn ki rangraliyan hai, yeh toh badnaam logon ki galiyan hai”. They could not have found a more apt number to dance on ever! If the name of the restaurant was anything to go by, there was ‘enough of belly’ being displayed; beyond that, the dance was irregular and awkward, and meant purely ot tittilate.

My drink came – neat! I asked for a soda. The same girl who had stuck on to us and pestered us for the drink, smiled suggestively. “Iss mein kya milana” Keeping in mind the ambience and the entire scene, I smiled leerily and said, “Ab issme raat guzaardi toh kya mazza, please get me a soda”

The flashy dance of the girl on the stage continued, complete with strobe lights and spotlights. Man, was she some bulk! She could have gone for the WWE contest and passed without any overt efforts. She wore a skimpy and hot shorts with a top that started late and ended early. For one of the songs ( err, that went, Kiss me come quick, jaanu jiya or some such shit ) she was accompanied by a guy, who wore a vest and an open checked shirt.

With spirits soaring, I gave a few hoot calls, and G looked at me flabbergasted. “In the past one hour, you seem to have upgraded yourself by several notches” he remarked, sarcastically. I gave a loud drunk laughter. Jokingly, I asked G if he wanted to make his night out in Nepal colorful (well, I used the word ‘rangeen‘, and it sounds much better). Too shocked to react, he simply shook his head convulsively. I said he would never forget this visit to Nepal ever! I enjoyed his abundant discomfiture.

The girl was back. “Hamein kya pilyaenge?” she questioned.

Playing on the charade, I replied with a naughty smile. “Pilayenge? Aap saaqui ho, aap pilao humein; Waise kya lenge?”

Aap kya denge?” she asked huskily. “Bolo na kya pilayenge?”

“Aapko peeni hai toh aankhon se piyo, na” I winked.

Aankhon se pyaas nahin bujhti

Woh bhi bujhadenge, pahle humein to geela honede” I picked up the glass and pointed to towards it. “Let me finish the drink, and then we shall see” The girl understood that we were not exactly her ‘clientele’, and backed off. She never returned.

One more song, and G was upto the neck. Gulping my drink, we called for the bill. It came, we paid, and G rushed out of the place. I lingered for a moment at the entrance at the crowd of the girls. Putting my entire heavy weight in front of one, I asked, “Kya daam mein?”

Dressed in a decent saree, she clutched the menu card tighter and shot back, “Kya kya daam mein?”

Aapko pata hai mai kis cheez ki baat kar raha hun? Daam bolo!”

A giggle came out of the girls behind me. Pointing towards one of them, the lady said, “Usse poochho, woh batayigi

I turned towards another outlandishly decorated female. “Daam?”

Aap kitna doge saahib?” she asked, putting on her best seductive professional smile.

Tum batao…”


“500 se ek rupaya zyada nahin”

She nodded. I got a cold feet, and murmured. “Aaj dost hain saath, kal aayunga” and fled down the staircase.

I came out on the Darbar Marg corner; G was nowhere in sight. I called out; he had gone off at some distance. “Hey G,” I exclaimed. “Since I have been negotiating your shopping deals here, done one more for ya”

He stared at me incredulously, and started walking with a furious pace. If only I had a camera to shoot the shocked cum scandalised cum surprised look on his face! I let out a hearty laugh.

(After this, still in mood for more adventure, we went to the hotel casino; for the INR 200, we won a profit of INR 34 at the slot machines; not bad, it was an evening well spent, I guess)

Statutory Warning : I am a decent guy; the above incident was only a reckless piece of adventure; I am not given to such vices; please do not mistake me.

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2 Responses to “The Belly Dance Bar and Restaurant”

  1. Taarika says:

    hmmmmmmm………no comments!

  2. […] Related Readings – Chalo Ek ‘Bar’ Phir SeThe Belly Dance Bar and Restaurant […]

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