Modernity with tradition in the city of Nawabs and pehle aap



 Amitabh Shukla 



Lucknow has changed and keeps changing like all other cities but the basic character, linguistic uniqueness and cuisine along with its famous tehjeeb remains an integral part of the Uttar Pradesh Capital


Travelling by train invariably has a charm and attraction associated with it, the larger picture being a laidback journey and the beginning of an unwinding exercise. I always look forward to a leisurely train journey in which you can slip into slippers and shorts, pull out the snacks or home cooked food from the upper layer of the backpack, put your phone in the charging sockets, drink the occasional khaki water which often passes off as tea, put one foot over the other and relax looking outside the sealed window.

This train journey was necessitated due to a cousin’s wedding in Lucknow, the city of the Nawabas and where the “pehle aap” (you first) culture is the legend of folklore, instead of “me first” as is believed to be the norm everywhere. I got a hint of this later while de-boarding the train at Lucknow station where my co-passenger, insisted that I get down first and I insisted he gets down first. He prevailed and I got down.

Anyway, boarding a night train from Chandigarh to the Capital of Uttar Pradesh was eventless and so was easing into the AC compartment and catching a sleep, hoping to be in Lucknow by the time I woke up in the morning. That was not to be. The train was late by 3 hours as I checked the mobile app for updates early in the morning. “You are spending an extra three hours in the comfort of AC in the same price of the ticket,” a fellow passenger, who appeared to be a marketing professional as his phone conversations suggested, told me, when I informed him about the status of the train. “Was I amused?” No, for sure.

Just before Lucknow, the Capital of erstwhile royalty of Awadh, the train made an unscheduled stoppage at Kakori, a small station which is a part of the legend of revolutionaries who fought for the freedom of the country. As I came near the coach door, I could see a red signal at some distance and got down at the station, hoping to run and catch the train again when the signal turned green. It was here at this station that one evening on August 9, 1925, the revolutionaries led by Ramprasad Bismil stopped a local train and looted the money which the guard was carrying to finance their struggle against colonialism in the country.  The plaque which has been put up at the station says that revolutionaries boarded the Saharanpur passenger from this station. The moment, the train started from Kakori, Bismil pulled the chain which stopped it a little ahead of the station. Chandra Shekhar Azad, Asfaqullah Khan, Rajendra Nath were in this train, besides others. One person was inadvertently killed in the incident. “They took the government money in their custody and challenged the British empire by this act,” the plaque at the station said.

History books have it that in the Kakori trial, which assumed nationwide importance and caught the attention of the entire country, Ram Prasad Bismil, Thakur Roshan Singh, Rajendra Nath Lahiri and Ashfaqullah Khan were sentenced to death and later hanged. Some of them were sent to Cellular Jail in Port Blair in punishment then called Kala Paani. Chandra Shekhar Azad, who was never caught, shot himself dead in Alfred Park Allahabad, now known after his name when he was cornered by the British a few years later. “Kakori was a landmark in Indian freedom struggle as it catapulted national consciousness and gave a definite direction to the movement for overthrow of the British regime,” historians have a consensus on this.

After a stoppage of half an hour or so, the signal turned green and the train started moving again and I caught it after surveying the station, people and the disinterested railway officials, who were hardly aware of the event. The Kakori memorial, in memory of the revolutionaries, has been built close to the station and you can see it from the train window if it is moving at a slow pace.

Soon, the train entered the outskirts of Lucknow and then the crowded station itself. I could see a big crowd at the platform through the window. As co passengers collected their luggage and moved towards the exit doors, I waited for a while before exiting where I came face to face with the tehjeeb (cultural and behavioral norms) of the city where a co-passenger, the marketing professional who had asked me about the train timing earlier, asked me to get down first. We couldn’t get introduced to each other but smiled as we headed for the exit.

This was my second visit to the city, the first being almost a decade and a half back and that too only for an evening. So practically, it was my first visit as I had seen nothing then, except the airport, transfer to a hotel and then catching a morning flight back to Delhi.

Courtesy a friend placed in a high position in Uttar Pradesh government, a vehicle was sent to fetch me from the station to the government guest house where my lodging arrangements had been made. “I have been waiting for the last four hours, train services are so unreliable these days,” said driver Sarfaraj Ahmed, who had been sent to receive me at the station. “Yes,” I nodded in agreement, as the government driver from the Rajya Sampati Vibhag (government property department) of Uttar Pradesh helped me with the backpack. The number plate of the vehicle in Hindi script too had the name of the department engrossed boldly in Hindi so that the cops do not stop a government vehicle even if it violates traffic rules.

Strangely, it was named VVIP guest house and was indeed located in an area close to the place where who and who of UP resided—Governor, chief minister, former chief ministers, present ministers and Judges. For the first time I realized the limitations of the bureaucracy and the netas as they had failed to name a guest house properly. They could have named it after one of the greats from the state which has given most of the Prime Ministers to the country. Curious about the name, I enquired about it from the reception and was told that it was actually called Ati Vishist Athithi Griha and nothing else and its English translation Board too was put up proclaiming it to be a “VVIP Guest House”. Anyways, it was a two room well maintained and comfortable suite with a drawing room, bed room and it also had a small office table with chairs separately in a corner.

Getting to the wedding venue of my cousin Aditya in the evening was easy as it was in a five-star hotel and the driver knew the entire city like the back of his hand. Now, there is a striking similarity in weddings all over north India, be it Punjab, Haryana, Himachal, Delhi, UP, MP or Bihar. There are hardly any regional differences when it comes to playing the DJ, hiring a band, lighting arrangements, dancing to the same tunes time and again and then the food which is becoming common in all weddings despite geographical differences.

Here also, the baraat or the groom’s wedding party came from their home in vehicles and stopped 50 meters from the wedding venue, the lawns of the hotel. Heavily dressed men and women assembled, some of them poured perfumes on themselves, saw one last time in the mirror which they had brought in from their homes and then the moving DJ started playing the typical wedding songs. And it was dance all the way for the 50 metres to the venue of the wedding. No one for sure had danced anywhere except in weddings of relatives. But here, they were up to it—freestyle dancing, no rhythm or synchronized movements but hands and feet were moving in all directions.

Usual video making exercise and still photo shoots, ritually going up the stage and pose for the photo, waiters forcing snacks and drinks at you—all the rituals you associate with an Indian wedding was there. You could simply sit there and close your eyes. If you have been to one north Indian wedding, you need not go to any other. It has become so standardized that it is the same everywhere, right from clothes, food, dance, rituals and what not. Only the faces change, nothing else. But I still remember the stuffed Tikki and the Chaat, exceptionally well made, the only items I had for the wedding dinner, besides some fruits.

I always prefer morning walks in a new place to explore the area, feel its pulse and vibration, talk to the people to understand and assimilate the accent and their thought process and also to rejuvenate myself for the day. So, there I was, at 6 am sharp, clad in sneakers T-shirt and track pant, I was on the deserted street. I passed through the road in front of the massive Raj Bhawan where the Governor lives and was in a park near the colonial building of the General Post Office. The architecture of GPO, an imposing colonial structure in White colour is indeed impressive. It was built in the 1920s and used for various forms of entertainment by the British even as entry of Indians was banned here in those days. Now, the residents of Lucknow use it for postal services. The outer façade had been well maintained and prima facie suggested of a glorious heritage. The trial of the famous Kakori conspiracy case, which I mentioned earlier, took place here apparently due to security reasons. I took a round in the park near it, had a look at the GPO Clock Tower located here and recreate the past in my mind.

Then, I moved towards the Christ Church, the gates of which were closed at this time of the morning. Initially built in 1810 with additions later on, in the Gothic style of architecture, the style used in most of the European churches, it has a great history of its own and has braved many a storm in the last two centuries of its existence. It houses so many things now—cemetery, educational institution and also a Church and is witness to the evolution of the British empire in Awadh, ruled by the Nawabs before the colonial power came to the region and annexed it in 1856.

Next door is Hazratganj, the market initially built by the Nawabs of Awadh and later by the British in their own style and taste. Now, construction of a Metro is on and it has disrupted the normal movement of traffic and business, but still the signage having the same black and white pattern, the rejuvenated colonial style street furniture and railings, added an old world charm to the place.

I got into a by-lane of Hazratganj and found a tea stall which seemed to be popular given the number of people wanting to have their morning sip here. I looked for its name but it did not have any but was frequented by the proletariat—from rickshaw pullers to sadhus to small shopkeepers of the area as it still sells good tea for only Rs 7 a glass.

“Once the Metro is built, business for all would increase,” said Raju, the teenager with the hint of a beard and moustache, who was collecting cash. A middle aged man, perhaps his father, was boiling tea in a big vessel and continuously kept it on the boil in a low flame. Whenever, a customer ordered tea, he simply dipped his small steel container with a long handle, brought out the required quantity, poured it in a glass and passed it over. He did not reveal his business details and turnover when I asked how many glasses of tea he sold in a day. “Bas, guzara ho jaata hai” (somehow I manage), he said, and got busy in his work. There was a certain pattern in which he carried out his work, you could see a rhythm and he seemed to be enjoying what he was doing. Decent taste of the tea with the right amount of tea-leaves, sugar, milk and perfect boil coupled with flavor of cardamom, suggested that he indeed was doing a good job.

Summer afternoons in Lucknow could be hot, forcing you either indoors or in one of the malls which now form an integral part of the city skyline. Being outdoors even though it’s a mall, is better any day than staring at the TV screen in your guest house room. So, there I was, at one of the malls of the city. Malls are gradually become one place in the country where everything looks similar whether you are in Delhi, Lucknow, Kochi, Kolkata or Mumbai. The outer facade of the malls could be different, but from inside, they are all more or less similar. They could be bigger or smaller in size, but you will find the same brand shops everywhere, same pattern of interior design, escalators, elevators, multiplexes and of course the food court. And yes, the only place which differentiates one mall from the other is the food court to some extent. Here, if you are lucky, you may find some local cuisine, different from the fast food outlets of the multinationals which have cropped up everywhere.

I found myself drawn towards the food court and there I saw the outlet of famous Tunday Kababi of Lucknow. Every foodie must have heard of the kababs of the outlet which claims to have served the Nawabs of Awadh for generations. I checked the menu, boldly painted inside the outlet as aroma of the Kababs being grilled and prepared invaded my nostrils. The signature mutton snack of the franchise—Galawati Kabab—was there, boldly painted on the menu list besides a lot of other typical food from Lucknow. “Start with Galawati Kabab, this is a bestseller,” the counter in-charge advised me, when I took a little longer to settle in with the dishes which I wanted. “How is Shammi Kabab?” I asked. “Of course, it is good but we use a lot of pulses to mix it with minced mutton so try it only after Galawati,” he advised again.

I ordered Galawati Kabab, which simply melted in the mouth leaving a strong flavor and taste.  One after the other, I kept having that till I had a fill and my stomach had no space for any more. There were four in a plate and I had ordered two plates. “How was that?” the middle aged counter manager with gutka stained teeth, asked me after I had finished. “Why don’t you open an outlet in Chandigarh,” I questioned back, even offering to help him find a rented space. He smiled, showing his gutka stained teeth again and said, “I will talk to the owners”.

I didn’t have any space left to try any other dish, promising myself that I will be back again next day before catching my evening train back to Chandigarh.  As the legend goes, Galawati Kabab was invented by Tunday Kababi after the then Nawab almost two centuries ago lost his teeth in old age and could no longer chew and eat traditional mutton dishes. The Nawab could simply slip in the Galawati Kabab which melts in the mouth and you do not require any chewing and teeth for it.

Stomach filed with Galawati, I moved towards the customary visit to the places for which the city is known—Imambara, Bhul Bhulaiyya and Chhota Imambara—all imposing architectural structures, having a glorious history and they were full of tourists as well as locals. The setting sun in the backdrop of the minarets gave a perfect adieu to the evening and I captured that in my lens.

The last tourist itinerary of the day was the modern day architectural marvel—Ambedkar Park, built by Bahujan Samaj Party when Mayawati was the chief minister. All the icons who, have worked and fought for Social Justice, have been represented here in a beautifully landscaped and crafted stone structures in the heart of the city, Gomti Nagar. Long time residents told me that it has become a must in the itinerary of those visiting the city now. I also visited the Gomti riverfront, inspired by several other riverfronts of the world, including the Sabarmati riverfront in Ahmedabad. It is a poor replica of those and there were hardly any visitors. What made matters worse was the neglect of the project, even if it’s a good one, of one government by the succeeding one. “The state has seen governments change every election on the last three occasions and what is dear to one is clearly an anathema to the other,” said, driver Sarfaraj.

My bureaucrat friend, who had facilitated my stay with the guest house booking and a car, came in the evening to pick me up for dinner in a five-star hotel. We had a great time discussing the good old days in Delhi and Chandigarh. Food in five-star hotels, particularly the Buffet variety is always welcome as you can taste an item, discard it and move to the next one. Invariably you do find one or two items which are nicely prepared and then concentrate on it. I found prawns and Awadhi Biriyani exceptionally well made and that was what I concentrated on after trial and error—tasting and discarding half a dozen other items.

Next day, I was in the local markets again.  In a lighter vein, I was told by locals that Lucknow is famous for two items—Chikan and Chicken—one for fashion and the other for culinary delight. But gradually, in a globalised world, it seems people are looking for uniformity in fashion which the multinational and the Indian brands offer. I didn’t find anyone wearing Chikan kurtas or salwar suits in the malls I visited. “Have the youngsters abandoned Chikan?”.

“No Sir, Chikan clothes are a rage all over the world. Our orders come not only from abroad but all over India. We sell online too through the popular shopping apps,” said Sameer Khan, a seller in the popular Chowk area of the city. The price varied as per the work done on the apparel. “These days, you even get fake Chikan in which the work is done by machines and not supple hands,” Sameer informed, handing out the real Chikan apparel.

Chowk is a crowded area of the city, part of its heritage and culture, dating back to centuries. Here, you could find the tahjeeb of the city—at least I din’t find anyone quarreling during my short stay in which I bought the customary souvenir from the city—Chikan Kurta—which I will wear in the next wedding where I am invited. Chowk is full of whatever you need but hot weather and little place to move in the market on foot forces you on the back foot within an hour. But it was a pleasure just window shopping and soaking in the atmosphere. The city has a typical language and sophistication and the accent of speaking Hindi was entirely different from eastern part of the state or its western part.

Evening was again reserved for exploring the culinary delight of the city and the driver guided me to the Tunday Kababi in Aminabad, old city. The outlet is quite popular despite the number of outlets they have opened in other parts of the city now. There could be nothing but another round of Galawati Kabab and some Biriyani, topped with freshly cut onion and chutney. It was as good as it possibly could be. Creamy Awadhi kheer was ordered for dessert and there it was—my culinary expedition to the city was complete so was my trip. I soon headed to the station, shook hands with driver Sarfaraj, thanked him for being a good host and boarded my train back to Chandigarh. (June 4, 2018)  

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