HIGHWAY OF MANY PLATES

That's cardamom. And that's green chilly. And that is undoubtedly McAloo.
The sights and sounds on SH 17 are replaced by flavors such as the above and many more. What was once a treat to watch is obscured and even invaded by gastronomic greed.
Nowhere would you find the colors our fields and soil are imbibed in. Lush green and dark brown. You can never get enough of the fresh air that hits you. The road is a biker's delight, except for the speed breakers. Tourists coming for the first time by road to Mysore, or going to the dreamland of Karnataka, are spell bound by the beauty of our fields. Hey, the sight of women harvesting the crop, and bullocks filled with it, is any urbanites cure for sore eyes.
When i first saw a signboard on the field, advertising McDonalds, KFC and Cafe Coffee Day, i marvelled the ironic situation. Global giants, high on making us fat, advertising on a freshly tilled land by a hardworking farmer. I'm not sure if any of our local produce goes into these chains.
The farmer's have realized that this a moolah making oppurtunity. Along the road, you will find large tracts of land covered in ash and mud. This serves as the foundation for roadside eateries. They have cropped up faster than what is sown. Every farmer has built one. From tea and biscuits to dosas and meals, it is a Highway of many plates.
The first tragedy, which is pan-India, fertile soil being lost to the industrial economy. In this case, the hotel industry. The second, the loss of beauty and tranquility of the highway. It resembles an exhibition of sorts. An ugly display of a growing need. Money.
This is one business where the farmer, hopefully, does not depend on any middle man. The stall is his own. It supplements his meagre income. Or even better, the entire land is sold, which pays for the engineering and medical seat for his son or daughter, either in Mysore or Banglore.
Most of these eateries are open throughout the night. It is not uncommon to see KSRTC buses lined up by the road, with drivers discussing the profit margins of the empty Volvos. The TV goes on in the background, courtesy set-top box. The tea is served from behind caged counters. Unlike America, tea on the highway is much more precious than liquor.
There are many speed bumps on the highway. The view on either side was the only saving grace. Looks like we have too much on our plate to enjoy anything.