Pani Poori

Pani Poori

I read this post in a friend's blog Shit Happens. And I thought of writing a post about it. I sat for an hour. Wrote 2-3 paragraphs and deleted them. I've already written so much on it that I didn't want to occupy more space on blogger server with the same shit. And the second reason was, I thought there are other more important things in this world to write about, like pani pooris...

Once upon a time, there lived dreamer. A huge fan of pani poori...

Pani poori, the moment I talk of it, my mouth starts functioning like bisleri water purifier plant and bottles of fresh mineral water start forming in my mouth. Atleast once a week, somehow a discussion of phuchka/golgappa/panipoori whatever you call it does surface when I call home and talk with my sis. And she cribs that she can't have it because of cough or her inability to go out to the phuchka stall because of other commitments.

the childhood...

The oldest memory I have about glogappe is when we used to go shopping in faridabad, and at 4-5 chowk, there used to be a stall by one bihari bhaiya. My mom used to talk with him in bihari sometimes. 5 golgappe for one rupee.

And I loved it there. The khatta teekha pani and big jumbo sized poori which didn't even fit in my mouth at that time. I almost cried everytime I ate it, yet I ate it. And then I used to ask for water. Mummy always used to interpret it as masala pani and the guy with utmost pride used to fill my bowl with the special masala water he only he could prepare. And poor me... used to consume it draining down some more tears and then I used to ask for water again... And when the guy with double shine on his face tried to serve the same masala water I used to scream that I am asking for fresh water. With all the shine gone reluctantly he used to ask his associate to see if he could help me.

When we moved to patna I used to overhear the conversation between my cousin bhaiya and bhaiya about the best phuchka stalls in town. The one near PMCH hospital, the one on Dak bunglow road and the one in Ramna Road. And they used to tell me when they go there, they don't set any limit. They used to talk of having consumed 20-25 phuchkas. I used to stare at them with awe in my eyes. I used to wonder how the best phuchka of Patna would taste like... It must be stunning. For me it always was a compromise with the pjuchka waala standing in front of our house. Mummy used to say go have it before papa comes and I used to go down with my sister to have it. And when we were grown ups, I used to stop by dinkar chowk with my friend Anurag almost everyday and we used to have 15 phuchkas each...

climax...

I never liked it in roorkee as they used to make it a bit sweeter. And the habit and the craze gradually went on diminishing.

When I came to bangalore, I remember once I stopped at a pani poori stall and asked for golgappe. He said he doesn't have golgappe. I couldn't believe in him as I could see it all over his stall. Embarassed a bit I asked what is this pointing at the golgappe. He answered pani poori. Relieved till the heavens I asked him to serve me that. It was horrible. The worst preparation of pani poori I ever had. I couldn't eat the sixth one and gifted it back to him. I thought I'll never be able to enjoy the same old pani poori again.

the saviour...

But now we have found one allahabadi bhaiya on 60 ft road in Koramangala. We go there regularly to have pani poori. As a backup, we have the Calcutta Victorial Chat house in jeevan beema nagar, indiranagar. And I can go and have it whenever I feel like.

And he lived happily ever after.


P.S: I had to travel back into the mood of childhood to write this post :). And you know what... it sounds so silly when I read it again :))

But atleast it helped me from thinking about the Shit Happens stuff. Wish every story had happy ending like this one.