Gole Bazaar 1960s - Paan Puja

===========================================================================

If you take a right turn from the GOG Fancy Shop, you get the hoary Paan & Cigarette Shop manned by an Oriya joint family. It had its ups and down but I guess it has survived.

Of paan and its charm there is this hit song of my generation:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyY4H8EYkvU

And of the next:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Y-4aPH9sfg

Andhras have a flair for inventing piquant twists in our folk mythology, like fights between near and dear like Raam and Hanuman. Here is one between Krishna and Arjun:

The story goes that a Gandharva was one day flying his Spitfire:

http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.spitcrazy.com/Spitfire2Labusch.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.spitcrazy.com/spitfire.htm&h=408&w=500&sz=92&tbnid=sR5lng_i87Ep0M:&tbnh=90&tbnw=110&prev=/search%3Fq%3Dspitfire%26tbm%3Disch%26tbo%3Du&zoom=1&q=spitfire&docid=tOQrBMgCkf7HHM&hl=en&sa=X&ei=Si20TuCBHsSIrAf5idXcAw&sqi=2&ved=0CEsQ9QEwBA&dur=120

And enjoying the scenic clouds in the inevitable company of his wife or maybe girl friend. And chewing paan. Must be bangla paan famous for leaving an inedible residue (My good friend N calls it the Cauchy Residue). So, this Gandarva had this terrific urge to spit. And his spittle obeyed the laws of gravity and aerodynamics.

In fact spitting paan-juice is an exact science. If you are in motion like in the window seat of the KGP-HWH EMU Local and spit out the window carelessly, anything can happen depending on the speed of the train, wind pattern, and the sex of occupants in the cabin behind...

So, this Gandharva's spittle dropped dead into the open palms of Krishna who was offering tarpan to the Sun God standing on the banks of Jamuna. Naturally Krishna got enraged and vows to kill the airborne Spitter from his Spitfire, who it turns out, is an ardent devotee of Krishna. The Gandharva then seeks asylum at the feet of Arjun. For what happens then, see:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gayopakhyanam

Don't mind my saying it, but I have observed that the hoi polloi of Bengal have a strange affinity for freshly white-washed walls. Also, like that deft (daft) definition of urinal, spittoon tends to be defined as a place around which spittle is emitted (in AP expert spitters make a 'V for Victory'-like sign with their middle and forefingers and bring it and press it in front of their red lips while spitting...it makes for good aim...like a similar technique used by men in public toilets...sorry...but science is science and is etiquette-neutral).

Talking of paans, the indispensable ingredients are three: 1. paan leaf 2. betelnut and 3. choon (lime paste).

Paan leaves come in three broad varities: 1. Andhra 2. Bangla 3. Banarsi.

The best Andhra leaves are grown in our Nellore district. The creeper is driven up a pole or a tree. Nellore paan leaves leave absolutely no Cauchy Residue. You can swallow them whole, juice and all. Not if you are a bachelor though. Bachelors (brahmacharis) are forbidden from chewing paan. The reason is that although paan is good for digestion, it 'thickens' the tongue and you can't recite Vedas which are tongue-twisters. But after marriage, you are a 'gone case' anyway...

Girls face no such restriction (they are not allowed to read and recite Vedas). They not only chew paan but also go to the mirror and watch how red their lips turned thereof. Because, there is this belief that the redder the post-paan lips, the madder their future husbands fall for them in love. And they compete with each other and also cheat.

There is also this other belief of our girls: the longer the parting in their braided hair, the farther their in-laws' town will be after marriage. This has been proved wrong in my D-i-L's case...her mom's place is Nellore where I had my 'own' apartment not far from theirs...and her hair parts all the way beautifully...maybe it is right in a way...we really belong to KGP, 1500 km away...

Nellore paan has just the three ingredients mentioned above..no frills. But not KGP. One evening when my son was just learning to talk, I carried him in the basket of my push bike to the Tech Market. There was this paan shop before you enter...it was just a mobile hood. And I ordered my regular high-class Meetha Paan. And as the shopkeeper went about his drill, sprinkling half a dozen or more contents from assorted bottles, my son blurted:

"Looks like dada is doing Puja!"

Once SDM invited a Tamilian Prof from Matscience, Madras, to drop down at KGP en route from Cal to Madras to give a talk on some topic of Group Theory. And SDM asked me to act as chaperone for his guest. And I put him up in the Guest Room of our Faculty Hostel. And after his lecture, I gave him dinner and wanted to bid good night, but the Tamilian Prof asked me if I could please take him to a paan shop. I was feeling rather amiss, because Madrasis as a rule eat Nellore paan while all paans available in the Campus were Bangla paans.

When I said sorry and expressed my inability to get him a Nellore paan, he said:

"To hell with your 'one-sec' Nellore paan! I am addicted to Bengal jarda paans and can't go to bed without one. I import my paan leaves from Calcutta every month"

Who said Tamilians are hidebound and parochial...not in Matscience...at least not in paan chewing.

This brings me to the crazy insanity of 'fashion'. During my time, I have seen trouser-lengths swing to and fro at least thrice going from 'tight' to 'parallel' to 'bell' to 'elephant' bottoms and back all over again; and again...

As soon as I landed in Bengal in the 1960s I fell in love with Bengal Handloom saris that were worn by Bengali ladies then (for instance Mrs DB). They looked so simple but elegant. So, I bought half a dozen Tangail saris spending precious cash and took them home to Nellore as gifts for my half a dozen sisters. All of them looked down at them and tossed them aside with snide comments to my mortification.

Twenty years on, I find them buying the very same Tangail saris from special Bengali outlets in Nellore at thrice their price in KGP; and flaunting them to their uncouth 'native' friends. Same with KDM Gold. They spoke ill of this variety of chains dangling from my wife's neck as 'odd'; and twenty years on, they not only buy the KDM quality in bulk but also speak eloquently as if they are the real connoisseurs of gold...they never bothered to know what exactly is KDM but.

Speaking of fashions in clothing, I read in the 1960s Readers Digest the canonical definition of female fashion:

"It is the perennial battle between woman's expressed desire to dress and unexpressed desire to undress"


===========================================================================