Pani Puri (An Indian Snack) might be the most complex of inventions in the food world or will top the list of complex dishes in any cuisine. Not that making it needs a lot of expertise But the number of components involved, the way it is served and the permutations, combinations and customizations possible will startle anyone. How would have one thought about making it? Inventing anything must be tough, Pani Puri no Exception!!!!!!
But this is not about Pani Puri or any other dish, this is about our people, the way they treat others, especially their fellow beings. On the way back from office to home there are certain joints were you feel at home, might be due to the chit chat with the street hawker, stall owner or the kind of people who hang around there. I have always had relations with whomsoever I dealt with, a personal touch, a mark that made the stall owner ask “ Kidar thee Sahib “ (Where were you), and the question would sound embarrassing when your stipulated time (7:00 pm) has been bypassed by just 15 minutes.
Pani puri, finished in a flash and then it was time for the Bhel (Another snack that is lip smacking) to be served, I could see a man in Dothi and a white shirt standing behind me. Holding to his hands was a kid, who eagerly wanted something to eat. His wife was scanning the menu card and was talking to her man on what would they order. White shirt was white just because it was 9:30 in the night and the lady looked too tired to lift the kid as well. I assumed they are coming back from some construction site, were this kid had spent the whole day amidst rumbles. My Bhel was on the make the stall owner had asked what they wanted at least twice and the second time it was quite rude, as if their presence degraded the standards of his Proprietorship.
The man ordered “Vada Pav “and some other Maharshtrian dish, were in the kid wanted something else. The kid started weeping and the spicy Bhel made tears roll put of my cheeks as well. The Man was waiting and in-between the stall Owner was rushing to cars and bikes which stopped there, asking this family to stand away from the stall. The kid’s eyes were lit up and she was peeping into what the “Bhaiya” was doing. The lady reminded the guy once that they had been waiting for sometime, the kid’s hue and cry would justify the same. Vada Pav was served without Chilly and when the man demanded for the same, the stall owner frowned and denied. The potato dish was served in a use and throw plate for them, while others got the same in a stainless steel vessel, that too with a smile. After the Bhel I sat on my Motorcycle just to watch the only war on this earth happen “between haves and the have not’s”. Throwing the plate on the road which is any Indian’s right was denied for this lady, she was given a lesson about cleanliness by the stall owner who had colored the wall behind him red, by spitting the tobacco that he chews.
The money earned by me or in reality anyone who ate there that day, would not have been half as hard earned as theirs. Why is that after a days work, back breaking work their money is not respected, why is that his efforts to keep his kid happy is undermined.
Why is it that we exploit people or show our aggression when we are sure that we will not be hit back??. I spoke, told that stall Owner about what it takes to spend 10% of the total earnings of a day to see the smile on his kids face. What it takes to be a husband who holds his wife close, with a kid on the shoulder, who walks back home with no promises to make, no hopes when the sun rises, but still holds a smile and with a simple but firm resolve tells himself “ I will never let them go hungry”. Our country is still fighting it out, not in Kashmir, not in West Bengal or Arunchal Pradesh, but in stalls were a common man is denied a steel plate, where he is denied respect for the money spend and also were rules matter only for the underprivileged.
