Bengaluru, for all its tech-driven energy, is not exactly a city that never sleeps. Unlike Mumbai’s 3 am vada pav stalls or Delhi’s all-night paratha joints, most of Bengaluru winds down before midnight. Late at night, the roads empty, streetlights hum in solitude, and even the city’s famous cafés shut their doors. But during Ramzan, a few pockets of the city defy this drowsy routine.The air is thick with the scent of grilled meats, the streets hum with chatter, and every corner has something sizzling, smoking, or being stirred in a giant pot. On the evening of March 14, we go on an Iftar walk across three distinct neighbourhoods — Shivaji Nagar, Frazer Town, and Koramangala.
Shivaji Nagar (7.30pm to 8.45pm)
If you think Bengaluru’s traffic is overwhelming, you have not experienced Chandni Chowk Road Cross in Shivaji Nagar during Ramadan. It is a sensory overload — a feast of sights, sounds, and, most importantly, smells. The area, named after the Maratha king Shivaji, is known for its historic charm, but tonight, even the warrior king might have found the chaos too much.
Smoke from sizzling meat fills the air, mingling with the scent of spices. Vendors yell over honking vehicles, beckoning passersby with promises of the best kebabs in town. At one stall, we watch as paththar ka gosht— meat cooked on hot stone slabs — sizzles to perfection. Nearby, pizzas are being baked in kulhads (mud cups), a quirky fusion of Indian and Italian. It is a carnival of food.
A person making paththar ka gosht
| Photo Credit:
Ravichandran N
Ananya Rao, a 28-year-old software engineer from Chennai, is here for the first time. “Bengaluru is not just about tech parks and traffic,” she says, “It’s about moments like these — where history, culture, and food collide.”
The heat and smoke make us thirsty, so we find solace at Malabar Kulukki Sarbath Stall, run by Hassan Sinan, a coffee shop owner from Indiranagar who sets up his Ramadan stalls across the city. The Kulukki Sarbath, a Kerala specialty, is a mix of lemon juice, raw mango, crushed ice, and basil seeds, with a hint of green chili for an unexpected kick. It is like a punch to the taste buds: sweet, sour, spicy, and cooling all at once.
Refreshed, we follow Hassan’s recommendation to Shalimar Restaurant, run by Abdul Rahman, for our first real meal of the evening. Their special pepper prawns pack a fiery punch, while the classic sheekh kebabs are juicy but a tad too salty. Abdul chuckles, saying, “This is just the beginning. Come back in an hour, and you won’t be able to walk here.”
He is not joking. When we return to our scooter, it takes us 20 minutes just to squeeze it out from a sea of parked vehicles. By 8.45pm, we are en route to Frazer Town, hoping for a slightly calmer experience.
Frazer Town (9.15pm to 10.30pm)
Frazer Town, historically the epicentre of Bengaluru’s Iftar scene, is undergoing a transformation. Once famous for its Ramzan Food Festival on Mosque Road, the area now operates under new restrictions — no pop-up stalls, only in-house restaurant setups.
Arjun M, a marketing executive and long-time Ramadan food walker, looks around and sighs. “It’s quieter, but the spirit is still alive.” The road construction and stall ban have kept things more organised, but regulars like him miss the celebratory chaos of past years.
For restaurants, business is down. “Sales have halved,” says Akbar Ali, manager at Savoury Restaurant. Despite this, their menu remains a crowd-puller, featuring slow-cooked haleem, juicy kebabs, and Mohabbat Ka Sharbat — a sweet, rose-flavoured Ramadan staple.
Iftar Walk food stall in Frazer Town
| Photo Credit:
Ravichandran N
We dig into idiyappam with chicken rogan josh, a surprising but delicious pairing, followed by Mahalabia, a Middle Eastern milk pudding topped with pistachios. The first few bites are divine, but once the nuts are gone, the dessert becomes a bit too sweet and one-dimensional.
At Empire Restaurant, another staple of the area, a manager tells us their Ramadan sales are down by 80%. It is clear that many food lovers have migrated elsewhere this year. And from what we hear, that ‘elsewhere’ is Koramangala.
By 10.30pm, we are ready to find out if the rumours are true.
Koramangala (11:10pm to 12:15am)
Koramangala is unlike the other two stops. It is neither as overwhelming as Shivaji Nagar nor as subdued as Frazer Town. Instead, it is a lively mix of college students, IT professionals, and weekend partygoers.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect Ramadan vibes to hit this hard here,” says 19-year-old Aisha Khan, a college student and first-time Iftar walker. “It’s not as chaotic as Shivaji Nagar, but it’s buzzing. You’ve got kebabs on one side and cocktails on the other — it’s like two worlds colliding, and somehow it just works.”
Mr Kulukki stall in Koramangala
| Photo Credit:
Ravichandran N
We make a beeline for MR Kulukki, run by Hamza, a former Empire Restaurant employee who claims to “know the pulse” of Koramangala’s crowd. His stall caters to a younger demographic, offering flavoured tiramisu, baklava, and kunafa alongside Ramadan classics like rabdi and phirni.
Intrigued, we try Hyderabadi shahi thukda, a thick milk-soaked bread pudding with nuts, and a custard roll, both indulgent and utterly satisfying. Nearby, a Kashmiri tea stall serves fragrant kahwah, and a kebab vendor shouts his rhythmic chant: “Chicken, mutton, kebab… chicken, mutton, kebab.” The night is alive, but in a different way from the old Ramadan hotspots.
As we sip our last drinks (one more mango kulukki sarbath), we glance at our phones. It is 12.15am. Somewhere between our first kebab in Shivaji Nagar and our last sip of kulukki sarbath in Koramangala, March 14 had turned into March 15.
And just like that, our Iftar walk had crossed not just three neighbourhoods, but also two different days.
Published – March 20, 2025 04:31 pm IST
