WAZWAAN: The King of all Feasts

Our traditional cuisine has withstood all the trials and di cult times over the past two decades

Marriage functions in Kashmir are mostly about Wazwaan ( traditional, rich in fats all mutton cuisine).

Without Waazwan marriage functions would be boring and thinly attended. Khandar Saal ( Wedding Invitation) is understood here as an invitation to cherish Wazwaan . No one can imagine going to Khandar Saal and not being served with Wazwaan . In a normal function one gets to taste at least 10 dishes of Wazwaan and in special functions like receptions of Baraats, you will keep pleading the Waaza ( serving cook) to stop serving more dishes but he will not relent and will keep on serving the variety till the last dish. Some 15 to 20 dishes land up on your ‘ Traami ’( platter) in the act. Few decades ago some ‘ wise’ men initiated reforms in Wazwaan . They tried to serve it in Western style commonly known as “ Buffet system” and restricted its menu to some half a dozen dishes.

This perestroika of Wazwaan failed miserably as it did not gain acceptability among common masses. This reformed version of Wazwaan is only in vogue in official functions. Majority of people stick to the traditional way of serving it.

Wazwaan has withstood all the trials and triumphs of time especially in the last 25 years.

This is the only tradition which withstood its ground and instead of getting diluted, gained more strength both in quantity and quality since the last more than two decades.

Our Wazaas ( cooks) have diversified its menu with MNC efficiency. Those dishes, which were unheard of some two decades back, are known to every ordinary Kashmiri these days.

Innovative Wazaas have added more spice and choice to the cuisine. Dishes like “ Kishmish Korma” ( Raisin Korma), “ Bot Cheeri Korma” ( Apricot Korma) and “ Kaju Korma” ( Cashew Korma) have been added to the menu. People consume Wazwaan feast which is very rich in fat in combination with Pepsi and Curd. No matter our Hospital OPDs are overcrowded during the season of marriages! AN INVITATION Lunch had to be served at 2 PM sharp, as per the notification printed in golden ink on the glittering Invitation Card. Some early birds in order to secure comfortable placements in the “ Pandaal ” ” ( Big Wedding Tent) had to wait till the final touches to the furnishings in the “ Pandaal ” were done. By 2 PM very few guests had arrived irrespective of what was stipulated on the invitation card. Hosts were not worried about the low guest turnout in any case. Everyone takes time for granted here. Guests were arriving slowly, at their own ease and discretion.

By 4 PM almost all the invitees and noninvitees had at last filled up the “ Pandaal ” to its capacity.

It was already 4: 30 PM and no hints of the feast were evident. People sitting in the tent were talking to each other. Some indulged in loud talk while others talked in a mild tone.

Politics, economy, weather, floods and Modi – all these topics were dissected by guests sitting in groups of two to six people. Every group was independently dwelling on a separate topic.

Some were busy in gossiping. Suddenly a pleasant sound turned heads. It was the sound of striking of hand washing copper utensils which were being prepared for the entry into the tent. Groups started to convert themselves into quads. Feast is compulsorily served on a big copper platter called “ Traami” which is shared by four people simultaneously. Platter gets automatically divided into four equal territories, boundaries of which are marked by embankments of Rice. It is considered “ Be – Rabti ” ( Bad Manners) if one trespasses into other’s territory. However, womenfolk usually do not adhere to such a rule. They have a free run on the “ Traami ”, especially when they have children with them. People usually do not get any liberty to sit in a quad of their own liking. Division forms automatically. It is usually a cascading sequence. Common group of friends are unlikely to find a place in a single quad. It is a matter of sheer coincidence that one gets to sit with three other friends. However, some people are assertive. They manipulate the formation cleverly and manage to sit in an “ all friends quad”. ONE SUCH OCCASION On one such occasion I fell into a formation of unfamiliar people. Two of our partners were friends, third one like me was known to none.

By his attire and telephonic conversations on his expensive handsets, it was not a hard guess to understand that the man was some big shot. He was a Novo Rich Kashmiri. He would get a tinkle on his phone after every couple of minutes. He would talk briefly and by the time he hanged one call, another handset would start ringing. He would talk about land, money, bank transfers, cheques and so on. Two other men were seemingly from a lower middle class background like me.

We sat silently till the “ Traam i” arrived.

Once the “ Sarposh ” ( Platter Cover) was lifted, we began eating. We cleaned up the mutton and chicken topping spread meticulously over at least a kilogram of boiled rice on the “ Traami ” in a jiffy. Now we were waiting for more varieties of dishes to arrive. Beaten Mutton Balls, called “ Rista ” in local language, arrived next. While gobbling a “ Rista ”, one of the men initiates the dialogue. He asked his friend, “ How much did you receive as compensation from the government for your flood damaged house?” His friend replied, “ What compensation? We just got Rs. 3800 only. It is a cruel joke on us”. Conversation went on. I was tempted to join in. I said, “ Leave floods, look at the condition of our roads, hospitals and schools. Everything is in a deep mess”. We kept on dwelling on issues of common interest and in between more dishes were being served. Our fourth partner, the Novo Rich Kashmiri, seemed to be aloof of all these issues. He was busy in eating and muting his cell phones rings. The discussion moved on to inflation.

“ Everything has gone expensive. Maaz Kilo ( Per KG of mutton) is being sold at Rs. 400 and administration is in slumber. They are perhaps hand in glove with Kodaars ( Mutton dealers) quipped one of us.” Haakh ( Saag) is being sold at Rs. 70 per KG. This is ‘ zulum ’ ( atrocity)”, complained one of us. I intervened and said, “ And worst is that government has no money to even pay salaries to its employees, leave aside money for other things”. Novo Rich man seemed unconcerned and unmoved. He was not interested in our grouse and lament.

These things were perhaps meaningless to him.

We moved on to the last but very important serving – “ Gushtab ”. This is again a beaten mutton ball of a bigger size cooked in yogurt. It was delivered on our fresh rice refilled “ Traami ” as the last dish. One of the men grabbed a plastic knife and started to cut it into four equal portions. We suddenly heard thunders from clouds. Weather outside had changed. Rains were about to arrive. I said, “ Weather is playing tricks this year. It is not getting any better. I don’t know what is wrong with it”. Novo Rich surprisingly took some interest and while wiping the drool off his mouth with his left hand, he said angrily, “ Huh! Woe to the cruel government for this bad weather”. We were shell shocked on hearing this. He was serious and really angry at the government for the bad weather.

Novo Rich quickly wiped his hands with paper tissue and bid adieu to us all. Everyone else in the tent stood up to leave. All of them seemed to be in some great hurry . The scene at the exit of the ‘ Pandaal ’ was that of a stampede.

Everyone was looking for his pair of shoes while freely walking and stomping over shoes of other guests. I managed to find my mangled and soiled pair of shoes after some bit of effort.

Those who had come last were lucky to leave first. Their cars were parked at the far end of the ‘ parking space’ on the road. They didn’t need to wait for others to leave and give them the passage. Early birds, who had come on time, had to wait for everyone else to leave to drive out their vehicles. Those who came early had to leave after everyone else left. Being an early bird, I had no choice but to ‘ Wait”. It is a learning experience to live in Kashmir.

You stick to ethics, don’t complain. Just WAIT.

MOHAMMAD AFAAQ SAYEED