Enjoying aloo paranthas at Hong Kong airport

My parents, after a short sojourn in their homeland, had booked their flight back to Canada. The Cathay Pacific flight had a stopover of eight hours at the Hong Kong International Airport. I was a little worried for my dad as he is a finicky eater. His food had to be with the right amount of salt, and only cooked by my mom. So, I was not surprised when he asked her to pack aloo paranthas. I ended up laughing out loud. “You guys cannot take aloo paranthas with you. That is so uncool,” I said.

But I was surprised when they told me that while they were coming from Vancouver with fellow Punjabis, everyone took out their little burlap sack of home-made paranthas and aam da aachar (mango pickle) at the stopover. The familiar aroma tempted their tummies and so they too decided to follow suit. So, this time they would have their very own Punjabi platter at the Hong Kong airport where they be hauled for a good time.

I giggled at the thought of robust sardars and sardarnis partaking of a pure Punjabi delicacy away in a foreign land. You leave Punjab but not Punjabiyat. You take it along, whereever you go. No matter in which country you stay, how much you try to get that perfect accent, you still retain the love for paranthas and you carry the secret recipe in a faraway land and preserve it.

Canada is home to a large number of Punjabis. The ‘mini Punjab’ sobriquet is rightly attributed to Surrey, a town in British Columbia province.

With the influx of so many professionals, the Punjabi community desperately needs caretakers for their children. Since the nannies to chaperon the kids come at a price, the best way is to call the guardians, who would not only look after the kids but provide them the values and a connection with the roots that is missing. So, the grandparents are uprooted from the motherland and taken to a land that is replete with the same of their kind. A kinship develops with fellow Punjabis in gurdwaras, parks and buses.

The harsh winter abroad sends the same influx back scurrying for the warmth of their homes. For a few months to meet and greet all friends and relatives, our people come loaded with gifts for all and sundry. While the load is shed, more of it is collected in the form of Punjabi suits and ‘juttis’ besides knick-knacks. And not to be forgotten that the tailors are too costly out there and neighbours have given their suits to be stitched in India. A time, tad too short and a humongous list of tasks to be achieved.

Finally, the visit ends and it’s time to go back. The goodbyes are said with a heavy heart and a promise to meet again. The creed returns to nestle their old homes once again. And there comes the time to bond and binge on the homemade Punjabi paranthas at a stopover in some alien land.

I GIGGLED AT THE THOUGHT OF SARDARS AND SARDARNIS PARTAKING OF A PURE PUNJABI DELICACY IN A FOREIGN LAND