An ode to Sattu. And several other things.

Every winter in the last whole decade, I have tried to get a little bit of Patna on my plate. A mooli paratha here, a gajar-mutter there. But what I really, and still miss, is everything sattu. And gud. My Bihari cook, a young boy of 22, who left Darbhanga a few years back, is now too Bangalored and commercial, to have the kind of patience that makes litti what it is worth.

I may have the adrak ki chai, but what I really miss is my customary two weekly sattu parathas with baigan ka bharta.

And litti. The real one. Made on real fire. Not steamed and fried and definitely not sattu momos. I miss that real litti that my fufaji would make on a coal lit iron vessel. On chilly winter evenings. Served with gallons of ghee (that once Ma and I avoided like plague) and. Yes. you guessed it. Baigan ka bharta.

And I miss that kilo of laktho that made for the best afternoon dessert ever. All of December and January.

And I miss ma's one stop solution to sniffling and coughing all winters. Gud adrak. And anarsa. And Ramdana ka ladoo.

One December I will go to Patna, I will sit in the heated living room of my Patliputra apartment. I will have chai with my neighbours. And I will eat all this and throw in some noodles from Banjara for variety. And I will ring in Christmas in the Notre Dame chapel, and eat all the brilliant pastries and cookies and donuts that the Sisters make. And I will ring in the new year in Golf Club. Dancing to unbelievable music. Or sitting around a bonfire. I wonder how I never thought any of this was fun while I was living it. Distance does make the heart grow fonder.

I miss Patna. The most in December.

Image courtesy: Various Google image searches. None of the pictures are mine.

A definite nip in the air

... And am I happy! Woke up to shivers, and I know this is about all the winter I will get this year. But something is better than nothing. Bring on the adrak ki chai!

... And happy puja to whoever is reading this. I was never really big on Dussehra, in fact I had to be dragged to go pandal hopping back home in Patna. And then college happened, and with that came the freedom to celebrate only festivals that I enjoy. While I am fervently waiting for Diwali and all the food that I have taken upon myself to make, dusting the suitcases of all the sarees I never wear, planning Diwali cleaning and Dhanteras shopping, and generally feeling like Grihalakshmi (:P), this year I am also surprisingly nostalgic about Dussehra pandals. I guess this happens with age - you start romanticizing about a lot of things and choose to forget how they bored the living daylights out of you when you had the opportunity to make the most out of them. Having said that, getting to the crowded pandals still seems like too much trouble. One day I will go back to one of those, maybe with my kids in tow. (I changed my mind.) Until then, Bengali Dashami buffet lunches it will be for me. Iliiish, here I come!

... And I HATE SALMAN KHAN. I still haven't seen Dabbang, and I can't bring myself to do it. But I can't escape his stare-in-your-face stupidity on Bigg Boss. Now you know I love Bigg Boss, so you can't blame me for pretending to hate Salman Khan because of the whole class-mass factor. The man is unbelievably dense. His jokes make no sense. I don't know why he is still on TV or movies. I don't care about his big biceps and his apparently big heart. I can't stand him! It is becoming increasingly difficult to watch Shahrukh too these days. (Something is terribly wrong with me!) But nothing, not even Shakti Kapoor, comes close to as nauseating as I find Salman Khan. I think I will just skip the Friday shows on Bigg Boss.

... While we are on Bigg Boss, I am getting a little worried about the image of Biharis in the world. The thing is, we are a loud, crazy bunch. Shit proud of ourselves. Whether or not we have anything to pride ourselves upon. Take me for example :P But a certain Manoj Tiwari, whose bhojpuri Chhatth bhajans used to be a regular feature during the most awesomest Bihari festival long ago in my history, is worrying me sick. I mean we Biharis might get hurt when someone nominates us. But we don't take it sitting in a corner feeling sorry for ourselves. We make others feel sorry for themselves. Or we just take it in our stride and say things like "Kisko rehna hai yahaan. Hum baahar jaayenge toh hamaare fan log humko dekh ke pagla jaayenge. Yahaan baith ke hum apna samay kaahe barbaad karein? Hum superstar hain". And more often than not, we mean it. But Manoj Tiwari is just becoming increasingly pathetic on the show. I loved Ravi Kishen and his classic lines that the entire country was chanting with him. Or even Kamaal Khan, who strictly by virtue of acting in Bhojpuri cinema, was as Bihari as me :P But Tiwari ji, get your act together. Jai Bihar!

... And now I am off to think about all the things I am going to do with my Kiney this weekend - just this morning I remembered that was the word for Activas back in college. The only difference now is that the days of borrowing Kineys for some bhelpuri outing are long gone. I own a Kiney now! Yayy to that! As you can see, my initial high is still not over.

On a lazy winter(?) afternoon...

A winters day
In a deep and dark December...
-- I am a rock, S&G

I miss that feeling. I miss the early morning, mid morning, early afternoon, mid afternoon, early evening, late night adrak ki chai, I miss the feeling of warmth that just holding a cup of chai brought. I miss my razai, I miss the tonnes of warm clothes... I miss the red sweater and stockings days back in school... I miss watching my mom knit for everyone she knew! I miss the childish pleasure of watching my breath float like fog... I miss the new year eve bonfires... I miss the sight of watchmen huddling around small bonfires every evening. I miss the Christmas celebration in school and on our terrace and the bright (and yummy) Christmas eves at Sonya's place. I miss the scarves and mufflers... I miss sattu ka paratha and gud adrak. I miss lazing in the sun for hours on end. I miss the afternoons I spent in the lawns of my aunt's professors' quarter, that was in reality a haveli with the most awesome old worldly charm ever! I miss the bright and colourful gaajar matar... I miss the pleasure that only mom-made gaajar ka halwa can bring. I miss my wintry birthday parties. I miss the board exam prep leave and the gallons of chai that came with it. And most of all, I miss Ma's warm slippers and ready hugs.

It's been years since I have been at home in a wintry city, Mahabaleshwar and Lonavla, Ladakh and Manali not withstanding. Pune wasn't my definition of cold, Bombay is always hot and humid, and the Bangalore temperature hasn't varied much in the last 6 months. I can't wait for 18th, I can't wait to go to Ranchi (and I still wish I was going to Patna too, I wish I still had roots back home) I can't wait to be home this December... I am hopeful :)

Disclaimer 1: I know I think/ write/ reminisce most about food, even when I write about cities, people, and seasons. I KNOW that ;)

Disclaimer 2: Neha Thakur, don't kill me for plagiarism, I couldn't leave out the watchmen and chai bits just because you decided to ghost write for me last weekend :P