Friday, 18 November 2016

We need Indian sweets.....

WE NEED SOME INDIAN SWEETS……



“Don’t forget the Indian sweets”, my mother commanded as I added onto the shopping list – Rasgullah white 1kg, black 1kg with an almost obvious drool. We had visitors that evening,

From the time I can remember I have been fortunate to sink my teeth into  the sinfully sweet ‘Indian Sweets’ the  sweet people visiting us brought in those soggy mistana bhandar  paper boxes.( I can prove it -every time I stand on my weighing scale I  guiltily eye the needle tipping off into the  zone  beyond my BMI).  "I got you some Indian sweets" grinned my sweet  Aunty Magdalene  and I could kiss her to death. The delish rasgullahs and the pearly white  sandesh stared at me – hmmm yummy Indian Sweets.I was a hilly billy with an aweful sweet tooth.

They have been Indian sweets for me  all my life till very recently. I  realised  that these  are Bengali sweets.The only difference is their  ‘chomchom’ is our ‘chamcham’ and their  ‘sondesh’ is our ‘sandesh’( the lip roll will do the trick here),the rest  remains the same ! and  there are Gujurati  sugar laced  snacks   and Rajasthani  munchies. These are not us - these are Indian fare!

Growing up in the North- East of India ; or should I say in the cold  lush green  gateway to the North-East, with the true blue ( a mix here and there) Indo Mongoloid blood running through my veins. ( I can prove that too - look at my slanty dreamy eyes, my high cheek bones and my pale yellow complexion ) I associate myself with the hardy life, strong men and women , pumpkin seeds, fierce Winters and oxtail soup, walking uphill and downhill, marigolds in the wild , solid calf muscles and those occasional indian sweets and the didi led  almost step sisterly state government    reminding me that I am an Indian (or is it to create an identity crisis…I wonder).

Have been introspecting since then. Would a girl living up in the north west of the US of A in Seattle munch  on some special ‘american’ candies? or a child in Balochistan crave for some ‘pakistani’ kebabs?  She would just want candies and he would want kebabs. I wondered. This looks like a very Indian thing. Crazy and divided that we are. We might not be very vocal about it ( unlike me!) but this runs deep. Sad but true. I had to look into it. Maybe it was just one of those British hangover still eating us hollow. I asked my mother, ‘Mama why are these sweets called Indian sweets’? She looked at me and said ‘These are Indian sweets that’s why, these are eaten in Mainland India’. Whattttttt? Mainland China- the restaurant and its big  red curly dragon flashed in my highly imaginative mind.  I saw myself sitting in some Macau like corner in India. So we are different, aren't we?  We must be,  we eat Indian sweets sitting in India. So that is  where the sweets come from- from Mainland India. So “What are our sweets?”, I prodded. “We are not ‘sweet’ eaters. We eat meat and rice and chillies and stuff that make us strong.” Her words were final. I agree as my craving for a hotpot of rice and meat overrides all.

As I write this I wonder about my ability to get the message home. Many years back I met this girl in Delhi and she asked me in all sincerity ‘don’t you fall when you walk those treacherous hilly roads’? I looked at her in bewilderment. Maybe the feeling is mutual. So the people from ‘Mainland India’ – I am not asking for much….just try . Indian sweets really? India is indeed diverse and crazy and all.

(P.S There is no such thing as black rasgullahs they  are called gulab jamuns.
This is fyi for my people with small eyes and big hearts!) J



Yours Truly