By Shagufta Rizwana
I believe, and many others will agree with me that food is a universal way of expressing affection and gratitude. We, my family has never known any other way of expressing love, but food. Accordingly, I have inherited this as my trait while expressing care and affection to others. Yes, it is true that food is for the nourishment of the body, however, it also nourishes the social bond and plays a huge part on every occasion.
Life as a gourmand
My best and most prominent memories have been of people and food associated with them. I haven’t been to much fancy dining places, my memories of early days revolve around the small roadside stalls, chaat houses and sweet shops in my place. One of the oldest sweet shops in our place had been a favorite of three generations and hoping the fourth generation growing to get the taste soon. And the information that interest me much is that the shop’s only and present heir is a Bank Manager and hardly involves himself in the shop, it is run by the employees who have been working for ages and their next generations and kinships. The samosa (or Singra as we call it) when mixed with a sweet yellow chutney of sugar syrup along with ginger chilly chutney can’t be found anywhere; I believe. Extra sugary pedas and kheer kodom in which the mawa coating resembles rice coating in appearance are the yummiest sweets. At school, sneaking out of the gate to the adjacent park during lunch time to gobble some chole chaat and churmur, and pani-puri as we call here ‘puchka’ was believed to have reached the pinnacle of tasty food. Afterschool munchies were a relief from the overburdened school hours. Undoubtedly, the best period in school was always the tiffin period. My friends made me acquainted with their mothers before meeting them in person through their foods. We were so typical foodies, that we talked about our friend’s tiffin more than her when she left for another school in a different school. University days are like amalgamation of cultures. My South Indian friend’s prawn pickle were to die for, North India friend’s homemade Gujias were so scrumptious that one can’t limit oneself to just one bite. Manipuri cuisine including Singju, Eromba, Bora were way to tasty with their simple ingredients. I had the privileged of meeting people from different parts of this country and knowing about their cultures during my university days. And what fascinates me is the embracement of each other’s cultures and tradition through festivals and food.
Back to home, there is a never-ending list to my favorite foods. Maa’s creamy korma and white Pulao combination, and many more from my grandmother, my father, and my uncles and aunt’s kitchen. My paternal aunts inheriting their mother’s trait, are excellent cooks. The eldest aunt as I call her ‘Fumma’ never wrongs a dish, even the simplest boiled Colocasia leaves tastes the best. I wonder, it is because of the love and motherly warmth she has in her always. While I
anguish over the thought that if that love of her will be overtaken by the pain she is experiencing from the loss of her child. We lost the eldest cousin among us. The most generous, and his love for feeding people. I, clearly remember once while sharing kofta and chips with him, he excitedly said to me, “I can eat potato chips for an entire day”. To which I replied with a grin “ME TOO”. If I had known ever, I wouldn’t be able to share any food with Motu Bhaiya anymore, I would have made tons of potato chips for him.
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By Shagufta Rizwana
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