The Legend of Café Samovar, Mumbai’s Melting Pot of Cozy Camaraderie
Nivedita Dey recalls the glory days of Mumbai’s bygone Cafe Samovar, where for decades, friends, family, strangers, students, lawyers, homemakers, thinkers, creative souls, Bollywood icons, Marxists, liberals, and more diverse groups of humans huddled over cups of cutting chai.
Physical spaces are rarely just that. Instead, they are complex tapestries of personal and collective history, memory, nostalgia, and cultural expressions.
This is even more true in the context of Cafe Samovar. Once upon a time, in a not-so-far-away land of frenetic hustle, there stood an enchanted island of uninterrupted leisure and calm—a quaint, little cafeteria, hidden away inside the prestigious Jehangir Art Gallery in the Kala Ghoda area of Mumbai. Opened in 1964, Cafe Samovar became one of the city’s most iconic cultural hubs for over 50 years through the test of time, and even withstood a 30-year long legal battle that travelled from the Sessions Court right up to the Supreme Court of India, until it was finally forced to shut its door on 31st March, 2015.
I remember experiencing the cafe in the mid-90s as a mere teenager, visiting Bombay for the first time. After a long and interesting tour of the Prince of Wales Museum, famished, I was quickly whisked away to this café, hidden in an inconspicuous corner of the adjacent art gallery. As I stepped into the narrow corridor bustling with life, I immediately fell in love with the cozy nook. My father and I had sat on one of the left side tables, adjacent to the steel mesh that served as the entire left wall overlooking the sprawling garden of the museum. I vividly remember that we had ordered a simple plate of cheese sandwiches and some tea. The sandwiches at Samovar always came in triangular slices, with neatly removed borders, and mine arrived the same way too. And it was there right in that moment that my long-term love affair with cheese sandwiches began. (Though, even after more than three decades and unnumbered cafés that I visited and tried the cheese sandwich in, none came close to the delectable taste I had chanced upon that breezy, warm afternoon at Samovar.)
Opened in 1964, Cafe Samovar became one of the city’s most iconic cultural hubs for over 50 years through the test of time, and even withstood a 30-year long legal battle that travelled from the Sessions Court right up to the Supreme Court of India, until it was finally forced to shut its door on 31st March, 2015.
For language enthusiasts, the name of the café will emerge as a meaningful metaphor. Samovar is originally a Russian word (самовар) and it literally means a “self-brewer” (sam / сам : self; varit / варить : to boil.) It refers to a metal urn that is commonly used to heat or boil water. The concept is said to have travelled from Russia to India with the Muslim saint Hazrat Shahi Hamzan about five centuries ago. Today one can find various types of samovars, plain to highly ornamented, in almost every teashop and household in Kashmir, boiling the local beverages such as kawhaa. Both in the snowy terrains of Russia and Kashmir, the samovar is a significant household item around which family members and friends huddled together to survive the cold and enjoy a warm, cozy camaraderie.
And that was precisely the vibe Cafe Samovar emulated: friends, family, strangers, students, lawyers, homemakers, thinkers, creative souls, Bollywood icons, Marxists, liberals, intellectuals from differing schools of thought, a diverse groups of humans huddling over cups of cutting chai, or some immensely popular tidbits such as boti roti roll or keema paratha, fervently discussing isms, or reading out poems or plays to an audience around the table, or simply catching up with another, creating a perfect potpourri of the quintessential Bengali adda in the Maharashtrian capital, or what can even be called its own Bombaiya version of ‘Chai pe charcha’.
“When I started it was to fill a lacunae in the city: Where would artists meet their patrons?” said the late Usha Rajbans Khanna, nee Kashyap, the founder and owner of Cafe Samovar to IndiaGlitz. “Where would poets sit and write without being disturbed? Where would young homesick executives get their home food? Where would young students go on a date they could afford?”
Khanna was the niece of famous Bollywood actor Balraj Sahni. She was a Kashmiri Punjabi by birth, who spent her early years mostly in Kashmir. No wonder she was closely familiar with both the practical utility and the sociocultural symbolism of a samovar, and therefore, could readily romanticize it as an apt metaphor for the brainchild she conceived. While she clearly borrowed the name from the cultural landscape of Kashmir—suggested by uncle Balraj Sahni himself, as mentioned in her 2007 book, The Making of Samovar—she also mentioned in the same about her having drawn her inspiration for the primary idea of the café from some of the famous Left Bank bistros of Paris that she had earlier visited. Famously, these cafes are an intrinsic part of the iconic Parisian art de vivre, and once a very popular point de rendezvous of some of the legendary French existentialists. In that, this Bombay kin of those Parisian bistros seemed to have perfectly paralleled (twinned?) their sociocultural significance.
A 'Day's Menu' at Cafe Samovar - screengrab from So Long Sam
Khanna had no previous experience of running a café, and yet she went all out to give birth to her dream based on sheer determination, dedication, and passion towards her vision. She, with encouragement from Soli Batliwala, the then-secretary of the Jehangir Art Gallery, began her journey with just a few chairs, a kettle, and a few cups, serving hot tea to the usual visitors and the staff of the gallery. Then came humble biscuits and breads to go along. Soon she began receiving requests for more munchables, and thereafter, a full-fledged food and beverages menu was added on. Every day Khanna—a mother of then three very young children—would travel from her Juhu home to Churchgate in the local train, and then walk down the entire length between Churchgate to Kala Ghoda area to reach her café, happily swinging her cloth purse: a testimony to Khanna’s zeal and dedication, as recounted by daughter Malavika Sanghhvi in an interview from the short film about the café, So Long Sam (2016).
The interior of Cafe Samovar prided itself of simplicity blended with a unique boho style: cane chairs arranged around two rows of brown sunmica tables, which were lined up in two columns along the two lengths of a single long narrow corridor; its ceiling and the walls were strewn with vibrant seasonal decors such as kites, Chinese lamps, paper art, handicrafts, etc., much of which—according to Khanna’s daughter Devieka Bhojwani—came from Khanna’s personal collection, kept carefully in an iron trunk under her bed. In later years, add-ons such as handmade posters, handwritten poems, and drawings made by its regular patrons were seen too. The original ceiling of the café proudly displayed a huge nude painting by artist Jatin Das, which was later wiped out due to leakage and seepage issues.
Housed within the art gallery and situated in elite South Bombay’s artsy Kala Ghoda locality—only a stone throw distance from several historic/heritage landmarks such as the Gateway of India, Bombay High Court, the University of Mumbai, the David Sassoon Library, Lion Gate, Flora Fountain, etc.—Samovar’s historic and unique location helped render its captivating ambience. It was a quiet and unhurried corner within a fast and forever sprinting city, an anomaly of sorts, and yet throbbing with the city’s very own soul, vivacity, and friendliness. It was fragrant with all the richness of history, art, and culture, and of course, the lingering scents of the mouthwatering food.
“When I started it was to fill a lacunae in the city: Where would artists meet their patrons?” said the late Usha Rajbans Khanna. “Where would poets sit and write without being disturbed? Where would young homesick executives get their home food? Where would young students go on a date they could afford?”
Such was the demand for their lunch items that one needed to place their order before 2:30 PM to ensure a meal. It is said that Khanna was particular about the quality of the food served in her café, firmly prioritizing the purity, simplicity and yet maintaining the delicious wholesomeness as that of home-made meals prepared. Further proof lay in an interesting but little-known trivia, shared by daughter Sanghhvi in an interview: some or the other menu item was daily included in Khanna’s all three school-going children’s tiffin boxes. The founder had strictly prohibited the use of maida (flour) and packaged spices. Only whole wheat aata was used for the rotis and parathas. All the spices were freshly ground, and their special red chutney—a secret blend of tomato and red chili sauce with lots of finely chopped onion and green chilies added in—was prepared fresh every day. There was no concept of refrigerating leftovers as the café's running menu was altered daily. The Day’s Menu, including the lunch and tea items, were daily handwritten on a blackboard just near the entrance.
Stepping into Cafe Samovar always felt like time traveling back to the 70s’ Bombay. I had experienced this time-shift palpably during my visit in the mid-90s. It is perhaps because Samovar never fell for gimmicks nor opted for trendy metamorphosis of the changing times which often is the case with other places. There were never much makeovers done either to the interior, or even to the café’s vision and overall modus operandi. All the available file pictures of this magical space through the decades testify to the unchanging appearance and energy of the same till its last day. Even when, decades later, Khanna’s elder daughter, Bhojwani took over the reins, things remained unchanged, with the only exception of the addition of a modern coffee machine to supplement the instant coffee. It was common knowledge that the menu remained untainted by any of the nouvelle cuisine, Chinese dishes, or other trendy spinoffs, which Khanna was forever firmly against serving.
Often, time seemed to slow down and collapse inside the café. Nestled in the heart of a city always on the run, this nook had a strange but immediate calming effect on the nerves, lulling one’s hustling senses into a dreamy reverie. Again, I had experienced this mystic aura firsthand, when after half a day of hustling from one tourist spot to another in frenzied glee, I had stepped in there for a snacks break, and immediately felt much wound-down and mindful, willingly surrendering to a slow romance of the space, seduced by its retro charm.
Since its nascent days, the café was a favourite and affordable haunt for students from surrounding colleges, such as Elphinstone College, and JJ College of Commerce, and lawyers from the adjacent Bombay High Court. It was also an watering hole for the city intellectuals and artists, frequented by renowned Bollywood stars, such as Dilip Kumar, Sunil Dutt, Amol Palekar, Amitabh and Jaya Bachchan, directors Shyam Benegal, Basu Chatterjee, and Sai Paranjpe, cinematographer K.K. Mahajan, theatre stalwarts like Girish Karnad, artists like M. F. Husain, Tyeb Mehta, Anjali Ela Menon, Mario Miranda and famous literati ranging from Gieve Patel, Nissim Ezekiel, Shobha De, and Nobel Laureate V. S. Naipaul. Political figures, such as Sonia Gandhi, Madhavrao Scindia and Prince Charles had at varied points visited the café. During the book launch of The Making of Samovar, Jaya Bachchan recounted how Amitabh Bachchan and herself, then Bhaduri, had had their first date at Cafe Samovar, and continued meeting each other there often during the initial courtship days. Palekar has reminisced his acting career having begun right at one of the tables in this café, over discussions with director Basu Chatterjee.
The café was also known to host literary or arty meet-ups with different celeb patrons, named as ‘An Afternoon at Samovar’, featuring a ‘Guest of the Day’ and ‘Dish of the Day’ put up on its menu board on such occasions. Names like artist Akbar Padamsee and writer Anil Dharker have been part of such events. It was this haven that the M.F. Husain was known to retreat it to, as his go-to hideout, and for suddenly storming its kitchen to make himself a roti dish or so. He was rumoured to have been the only patron who was allowed a table of six even while visiting alone. Husain and the other above-mentioned artists were known to sit at the café for hours, doodling art, at times even on the walls and furniture of the café, sometimes even on its paper napkins, as remembered by many visitors of the café. One such table with a drawing by Hussain on it has been preserved.
Young screenwriters still awaiting a break would sit at the tables of the café for hours writing away while sipping chai. Since the first day, Khanna had also very thoughtfully decided that at least one item on the menu should be affordable by everyone who visited the café, regardless of their economic status. That’s why the Mumbai’s iconic cutting chai served at Cafe Samovar was always priced at a mere seven rupees, even until its last days.
The peaceful and lyrical atmosphere of the café proved to be perfect for creative inspiration and outflow. Khanna was particular about never rushing any guest. According to her, the café was like a second home to writers, creators, artists and romancing couples who should never be hurried away.
It was also a watering hole for the city intellectuals and artists, frequented by renowned Bollywood stars, such as Dillip Kumar, Sunil Dutt, Amol Palekar, Amitabh and Jaya Bachchan, directors Shyam Benegal, Basu Chatterjee, and Sai Paranjpe, cinematographer K.K. Mahajan, theatre stalwarts like Girish Karnad, artists like M. F. Hussain, Tyeb Mehta, Anjali Ela Menon, Mario Miranda and famous literati ranging from Gieve Patel, Nissim Ezekiel, Shobha De, and Nobel Laureate V. S. Naipaul.
The simplicity and warmth of this landmark remains perfectly mirrored in one of Bollywood’s evergreen films, Basu Chatterjee’s Chhoti Si Baat. This is a heartwarming story about how the true love of a simpleton Arun (Palekar) for his plain Jane colleague Prabha (Vidya Sinha) wins against all the craftiness of an interfering third wheel, Naagesh (Asrani). Two brief comic scenes featuring the three actors were shot at Samovar, with veteran actor Ashok Kumar appearing in one, and these remain memorialized in the hearts of Indian audiences. In both scenes, Naagesh calls out to his favourite waiter, D’Souza, and places their order, asking a certain Peter in the kitchen to prepare it well. However, the chicken a la poos that Naagesh orders there was never part of the café's menu; in fact, it is not a real dish but a faux French dish invented by Chatterjee to accentuate the scene’s comic element.
Some of the popular food items that were instead in the actual menu of Cafe Samovar included boti (kabab) roti roll, chicken vindaloo roll, keema roti, the unique types of parathas (spring onion paratha, strawberry paratha) dahi vada, pepper mutton chop, and more. Beer was available, beside several other uncommon and refreshing beverages such as pudina chai (mint tea), aam panaa (raw mango sherbet), guava juice, plum juice, the juice version of Mumbai’s famous Kala Khatta, and so on. With such a wide variety of gastronomic delicacies, no wonder most of its patrons were regulars, some locals visiting it daily, some others from farther parts of the city weekly or fortnightly, some since the 60s and 70s, some others since the 80s, right up the day it closed.
So unbreakable were the bonds built at this nook, that the management and the employees had progressed beyond a mere professional relationship, becoming akin to family members, supporting one another through life. Many of the cafes’ regular patrons had forged close bonds with other patrons through their repeated encounters at the cafe, and had become lifelong friends. Sharing tables with strangers was a norm, and that further fostered friendships and new connections. Khanna has recounted that mothers who were patrons would often come to her seeking grooms for their daughters from among the frequenting young men there. She narrated a rather curious incident of how a daughter of a certain patron got married inside the café, amongst a small gathering. Many other renowned names have confessed to having popped the question to their spouses at Samovar.
A scene from Chhoti Si Baat - via @shirinmehrotra on X.
On the day the café closed its doors permanently, several Bollywood celebrities, artists, writers, socialites, eminent names such as Jaya Bachchan, Dolly Thakore, Shobha De, Ranjit Hoskote, and many more had once again come together to celebrate this legendary space for one last time, and spend time with its owner, now late Khanna and her two daughters: theatre personality Devieka Bhojwani and columnist Malavika Sangghvi. Patrons with teary eyes recounted how one met their wife there, or another was introduced to it by their late father, and hence how thoroughly it’d be missed.
But one must reckon, that the loss isn’t only an emotional or sentimental one, but of many socio-cultural and economic consequences too. Several kitchen and administrative employees of the café were working there since its early days. Some of the café’s raw material suppliers and associates had been serving it through generations of their family businesses. No wonder, director Shyam Benegal fondly called the café, “an oasis for several generations of youth”.
Considering the same, when the final extension of the lease for Cafe Samovar was nearing an end, both the founding family and some of its patrons in positions of power had put in their appeals with the authorities at the Jehangir Art Gallery, and had even spoken to the then Maharashtra CM Devendra Fadnavis, seeking to preserve this city legacy through some mutually amicable solution. Even the Maharashtra Tourism Development Corporation was approached for some suitable alternate location for its continuation. Unfortunately, none of those interventions proved efficient and finally the lease extension was over; the final agreement out of the legal battle had resulted in one last five-years extension in 2010, and no more.
In 2015 the café was legally bound to shut down and the corridor handed over to the art gallery for its sculpture hall extension plans. On the last day, according to Bhojwani in So Long Sam, Khanna had put up every piece of the colourful décor accumulated through the decades for one last time, making the café metamorphose into a beautifully ornamented bride; and later she had insisted that each guest took home a small piece of the decors, symbolic of each carrying back a piece of the café forever with them.
Sharing tables with strangers was a norm, and that further fostered friendships and new connections. Khanna has recounted that mothers who were patrons would often come to her seeking grooms for their daughters from among the frequenting young men there.
Cafe Samovar is long gone, but its legacy lingers on in the evergreen memories of its countless patrons and its employees and associates too. Both the presence and the absence of the café was so impactful that the dairy giant Amul dedicated one of its Amul Girl creatives on their butter packages to the same in April 2015. Every significant news publication, including Times of India, Hindustan Times, Indian Express, India Today, Outlook India, Business Standard and Mumbai’s iconic Mid-day, ran several reminiscing articles about an era coming to an end with the café shutting down.
The final days of the café have been documented in a touching short film titled So Long Sam, directed by Deepika Sharma, and it was screened at Mumbai International Film Festival 2016 at NCPA. The detailed journey of this massive melting pot in Mumbai was recorded for posterity by Khanna in a colorful coffee table book, The Making of Samovar – How a Café in Mumbai Became a Metaphor for a Generation. Ironically, that book seems to be lost to the whims of time too, as it has long gone out of print, as claimed by its publisher-printer (Spenta Multimedia, 2007).
Like the book, many more memorial articles about the café seem to have been lost to time. Such repeated reiterations of loss associated with Cafe Samovar make its absence hit home with even more poignancy, leaving a hole in my own heart, and presumably, also in countless others.
And yet, I think of actor Palekar’s remark to Business Standard about several such city landmarks now lost to time, “Structures end and get demolished, but not memories.” Most certainly; ‘Sam’ continues to burn bright in our memories too.
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Nivedita Dey is a poet from Kolkata, India. Her poetic philosophy is one of hope and transcendental humanism, and her debut poetry collection was Larkspur Lane: Branched Labyrinths of the Mind (Notion Press, 2022). Dey holds post-graduate degrees in English and Psychology. She can be found at niveditadey.com, Twitter: @Nivedita_Writes, and Instagram: @niveditadeypoetry.
