Dhal Puri Roti – A History in Three Vignettes

Roti Joupa Trinidadian takeaway frontage in Clapham, London

 

Barhara, Bihar, India – 1867

At the end of the village, just past the sweeping steps of the ghat, flows the Ganges. The holy Ganges. The purifying Ganges. The mother Ganga. Ever changing. Ever the same. Shimmering watery portal between heaven and earth.

Nearby, its waters are replenished by the mighty Ghaghara, whose own origins lie high up on the Tibetan plateau. On monsoon days such as this, the river runs perilously high.

The villagers look on, surveying the surge with a wary vigilance, monitoring its ceaseless flow, anxiously rolling and twisting prayer beads between their restless fingers.

They place their faith and hope in the twin guardians of the riverbank: one of the earth, the other of the heavens.

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It’s Not Just KRICKET, It’s Thoran Around India

Kricket, where the diverse ingredients in this thoran has me reflecting on diversity more generally.

Religion. Do I go there? What is to gain? What could I lose? And yet here I am. And here beside me is the territory of ritual, history and God. And here’s me stepping into it..

I think most of us have our stories of religion. Whether we grew up with it or not. Whether it was found or it was lost. Mine begins in a Jewish family, quite Orthodox in fact, until I discovered I was possibly atheist, but let’s call it agnostic, but always felt connected to Jewish culture if not belief, now living in and raising a mixed-faith family, rewarded by the richness and challenges that brings, living in a city that’s probably the most diverse on earth. I love that my neighbours are also mixed-faith; in fact between our two houses there are four religions, a fifth if you include our other neighbours. In our local neighborhood, there’s a friendly Sikh gurdwara, a serene Buddhist temple, a vibrant synagogue, the oldest mosque in London, churches from myriad denominations, and probably lots more besides.

I’m constantly intrigued by religion. I revel in its rituals, its festivals, its music, its community, and of course the centrality of food. It can transcend the individual, traversing time and space, helping people in their search for meaning. But as for dogma, division, rigidity and intolerance – well, who needs those unfortunate bedfellows… View Post

Lambchops at GUNPOWDER, A Dangerous Encounter in India

Gunpowder

Many things are said about what it’s like landing in India for the first time. People say it’s an assault on the senses. People warn you about the heart-breaking poverty. And of course there’s the sweltering heat.

Stepping out of Delhi airport as a young backpacker in the 90’s, it was of course all of these things. But first things first: I had to deal with a more unnerving, if revealing, introduction to this incredible, if often unfathomable, country. Collapsing onto the hot sticky seats of the airport bus, an array of alarming signs accosted my tired jet-lagged eyes:

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