A little Magic on the Streets.
Have you ever been to a magic show? Awestruck by the tricks and baffled by the outcome in just a couple of seconds. A clever grin on the magician’s face and you know that he has won you over.
As a child, I used to stand by my mother while she cooked. It was nothing less than magic to me. She would bring some really terribly tasting veggies, do some of her tricks and the results would always be amazing. The little toddler in me secretly wished to see more of her tricks and 2 decades later still does.
There is a foodie in everyone, closely attached to the soul. There are people who enjoy eating on comfy sofas in an artificially cooled air enjoying the peacefulness of the fabricated surroundings. Then there is a flock of others who enjoy eating on the street in fresh air gushing with each vehicle passing by.
These magicians on the streets appear to be tossing , sprinkling, mixing some entities to pull up a master show. The results are infused in the air, slowly luring you towards it like a bee to honey. These masters have silently shaped cities, given those places a sense of purpose, a unique identity.
I grew up in a town ,Udhampur in Jammu and Kashmir (INDIA).A small place situated amid the snow capped mountains. As a child I used to devour steamy hot momos on the streets. The soft like an angel touch against the lips with the crush of vegetables with spicy chutney to lure the taste buds. A combination of love and betrayal with each bite that your senses refuse to comprehend. Then begins the final act of swallowing.
Swallowing it is the bliss of misery , the bliss of salvation. It is the final act of letting go, the most terrible but the noblest of all. It’s the acceptance of austerity after an extravagant spending.
As the foodie and traveler within me started exploring places, I was introduced to the most colorful of the food textures possible. The typical punjabi delicacy, Cholle Bhature to Mumbai’s Pav Bhaji. Every experience left with a hunger for more reminiscing the smooth butter taste, the tinge of lemon and the hot spices.
Being an undergraduate in an engineering college, I was taught not to interest in hostel’s mess food and explore the roadside eateries. This is when I noticed the peculiar Raju’s around me. They were the heroes of the street, one adept at omelette sandwich or other infamous for samosa. They were those real time entrepreneurs that had seeded their own money, used least of the resources and made a product worth remembering.
Then there were those ubiquitous tea stalls which you find in every nook and corner of the country. It’s the ‘tea’ that has been evolved with a generation of tea lovers it continues to cater.
A damp corner of the market endorses the bright colored signboard with the name familiar to most Indian households, ‘Raju’s Tea Stall’. Strolling through the lane , the occasional tossing of the tea brewing with the emotions of a child in a mother’s arms. The sweet scented odor titillating the taste buds. A visual treat of youngsters enjoying the aroma with a puff of smoke discussing daily affairs to planning futures. This lane has the restlessness of a youngster to the sweaty palms of a middle aged worker.
The tea would be accompanied with the all time favorite triangle shaped Indian Snack ‘Samosa’. It is like a romantic couple on a honeymoon eyeing to steal a kiss. A newspaper diapered around the bottom with the front squished by a thumb adding a few extra sauces , the bride is ready for the perfect union.
The first soft kiss of the salty crust against dried lips leaves with the urge for more, a sip of tea slowly blending with the crust. The next bite leaves you with the surprise taste of the smashed potatoes and chili exposing taste buds pouring all the juices for a perfect romance. A constant struggle ensues with the end of the tongue to not let go. Another bite with a passion for more of the blend that would relinquish of the thirst.
Finished, a sense of guilt sinks to the bottom with an experience to cherish forever.
Happiness comes in all flavors, it tinkles you , lures you, stays with you and secretly becomes a part of your identity. Food is not just a fuel. It’s not just about nutrients and calories. It’s much more complex. Food is tradition. It is blended with the paths we choose, the choices we make. It’s about sharing, the act of selfless care, devotion to a fulfilling world.
I wonder what life would be without any of these and what possibly the life could bring more. But the streets continue to surprise me , inspire me of the combinations of those simple things which result in fantastic tastes.
The toddler in me 2 decades ago was fascinated, now is interested and the future may behold something extraordinary.