The saffron colored Jalebis on the sidewalk straight out of the hot oil or the Jamuns that make your mouth go purple and you can’t stop yourself from pointing your tongue to your friends thereafter, the cola bars and Limchus (that’s lemon bars to those who don’t understand the lingo) or the Kulche wala who gives extra Chole if you smile at him (I am not sure if guys get treated the same way). This post is about the third love of my life….roadside food.
To those who are intricately woven into the high end spectrum of luxury, to who the concept of road side food is dirt laden diseased lump of colored goo, this post is an earnest appeal to look beyond the realms of logic. For love in any form is crazy in its inception, what follows it is logic, be it love for a man/woman or food.
I always had this ice cream man in my school (that was before the plush food corner called “Daffy’s” opened up in my equally high-end school and ruined the poor guy’s business) and I remember the innumerable cola bars I had from him and contributed to his sale. After a point monotony sunk in and I shifted to orange bars but I always looked for him after school to have that juicy delight dripping on my clean white uniform and then running after the school bus like a mad woman. Ahh…eternal bliss.
A good day would be to hang out with my equally eccentric friends at a place like Chandni Chowk, have the famous stuffed Parantha dripping ghee and the tall glass of salted Lassi or probably shop till I drop at Lajpath Nagar and have the Masala Ladoo at the junction with a glass of chilled Banta (that’s a drink)….yummmm…
It’s not really always about the taste you see. Sure it is unhygienic but the Indian stomach is made to bare that. I mean if we can eat all the DDT infested vegetables with pulses that have matching colored stones (of the similar size) that click when you eat, then THIS is a luxury you should not miss. The interplay of colors and the carefully orchestrated mix of ingredients with a dash of spices, and the subsequent melting of the food in your mouth, pretty picture?:) I love the fact that most of the road side food is consumed via our (unwashed) hands; it kind of makes it tastier for the mere fact that you are able to exercise all your senses to savor the same. Sense of touch, smell, vision and taste, its amazing how all the senses beautifully fit in to give you a relishing experience.
Apart from the amazing taste of the Pav Bhaji and the 10 bucks worth fruit ice cream of Dariya Gunj or the Sev Puri and Jelly cream of North Campus, it’s the memories they have given me. I somehow find myself in an induced state of stinginess, “chillar-pana” as we crude people call it, while I am eating my Tikki or popping the gol gappas in, that are bigger than my mouth. I would lick the last speck of that cream or the “chutney” and then attack the friend’s plate in between the laughter and innovative abuses. Is it just the taste of the food that makes me love it?
For me the road side food is my extended self. It makes me understand and appreciate the “smaller” things in life that sometimes hold more importance than anything on earth. It keeps me grounded, helps me go back to the “good old days” that our parents keep mentioning. It is a world that has the aroma of a place where I remain the child I was and the child I want to be in touch with.
