halla bol

halla bol

tasting menu

(available only at protests)

chickpeas and/or groundnuts, boiled, salted, spiced with a dusting of dust

***

samosas, slightly crushed, sweaty-salted

***

rotis and dal, hot from the makeshift langar

***

biryani in the bitter cold

***

Fantaisie du Chef (depends on the police) 

***

shakarkhandi ki chat (seasonal)

***

frites, with a side of tear gas

***

corn, beaten, burnt and blackened

***

daulat ki chaat, before it disappears

_______________

price: variable
(can sometimes result in your house being bulldozed)
_______________

accompanied by lashings of chai, indian

-

 

Addendum: 

Food at protests, not food as protest.

When the pandemic struck in 2020 and I watched the dismantling of Shaheen Bagh, the erasure of all signs of resistance, the whitewashing of countless colours done with such speed and such priority in a country reeling from the deaths of thousands of migrant workers displaced and finding their way back home, when I was trying to make sense of what still does not make sense, reading was one way of practicing hope. When I was called upon to make a menu drawn from what I was reading, Halla Bol* became the clarion call.

This menu is a homage to the food stalls and vendors at the sites of protests I have joined in various cities and countries; flashes of memory from the streets and bylanes of Delhi, Paris, Chennai, Bengaluru, Rome, Dharamshala, Singhu … elsewhere …

The Tamil farmers struggling with the bitter cold of a Delhi winter in their thin veshtis telling me about their struggle with cold rotis while warming their hands with hot samosas brought by Raghu.

The taxi driver’s contempt for the striking farmers at Singhu because of their “luxurious conditions” … his belief that their protest was invalid because they were warm and had good food.

The kebab shop owner at Shaheen Bagh who tells us that tonight his kebabs are exclusively for the sit-in ladies.

The generously shared cups of chai, in protests all over India.

The crumbling ram laddoo clutched in a moist hand of a friend as the other is raised to signal resistance.

The various snacks at Jantar Mantar that vary according to season … chilli lemon roasted bhutta, bread pakoda, mathri, sweet potato chaat, kulche chole and of course, chai and more chai that accompanied us as we went and went again and again to protests with belief in the power of turning up.

Paris, the saucisses wrapped in limp white bread, the shawarma stalls, coca cola, ice lollies and fries. A policeman’s baton cracking down on the arm of a fleeing girl, her hand dropping the sandwich she was holding, the open mouths of my friend’s children, ice lollies dripping down their arms as they bear witness.

 

*Halla Bol: The Death and Life of Safdar Hashmi by Sudhanva Deshpande. Published in 2019 by LeftWord Books, New Delhi.