Hindustan Times (Bathinda)

Soul food: A humble bowl of rajma chawal

- Rahul Bhandari rarabhanda­ri@gmail.com The writer is a Punjab-cadre IAS officer

TMY EPICUREAN ESCAPADES WITH RAJMA CHAWAL DURING MY COLLEGE DAYS BRING BACK THE GOOD TIMES SPENT IN HOSTELS, COOPERATIV­E MESSES

he words of Irish author George Bernard Shaw would resonate with any food connoisseu­r, “There is no love sincerer than the love of food.” Shaw isn’t the first to have made this observatio­n, nor will he be the last, for the annals of history bear testimony to the undisputab­le actuality that man’s intellect has been dominated by his digestive organs.

As a Punjabi, I could not agree more, for having lived a considerab­le part of my life in a state where the words of a Punjabi song resonate, “Khao, piyo, aish karo mitron…”, the essence of my Punjabiyat lies in my plenary indulgence for gluttony.

My epicurean escapades with the rajma chawal, a North Indian household staple, during my college days bring back the good times spent in hostels and cooperativ­e messes. At a time when Zomato and Swiggy were unheard of, the mobile phone device a reality whose existence we were only familiar with through electronic journals, this simple meal was an emotion, our go-to source for gastronomi­c delight. Due respect was accorded to this dish by our hostel mess chef, for we would be greeted by its aroma thrice a week, every morsel laden with his Himachali expertise. Leaders of the free world can perhaps take inspiratio­n from how this humble dish played an instrument­al role in promoting peace, for the heavy meal would bring out the best in our characters, eliciting in us the feeling of contentedn­ess, forgivenes­s and generosity.

A common post-rajma chawal complicati­on was the laborious effort in trying not to doze off during after lunch lectures. Notoriousl­y labelled as ‘suicidal sessions’, these lectures of engineerin­g and mechanical drawing were subjects that mandated rapt attention. As one struggled to stay up, the monotonous drone of our professors serving as lullabies, one finally understood the essence of the lines, “We are but the verist, sorriest slaves of our stomach.”

Fast-forward to days of portion control and healthy dieting, and a look back at the Herculean quantities of rajma chawal we consumed back then astound me. The memories of those good times linger however to this day, especially when I attend gatherings or meetings where I’m forced to restrict my consumptio­n of this wholesome meal. So, while boiled vegetables and low-calorie foods may keep the weighing machine in check, in times of homesickne­ss, a low phase or in the unforeseen event of being left by your beloved, there comes to mind only one soul food to make things better again, a humble bowl of rajma chawal.

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