Idli Aur Woh Taste Jo Safar Karke Aayi

Idli itni familiar lagti hai ki koi puchta hi nahi.

White. Soft. Steaming.

Plate pe aate hi pata hota hai - sambar kidhar hai, chutney kidhar hai.

Koi instructions nahi.

Bas hoti hai.

Jaise hamesha se thi.

Par shayad aisa nahi tha.

Purane texts mein kuch milta-julta milta hai.

Rice cake jaisa.

Par wo idli nahi thi.

Na wo halka sa utha hua texture.

Phir kahin kuch badla.

Rice aur urad dal.

Raat bhar rehna.

Subah tak badal jaana.

Phir steam.

Aur phir woh texture.

Jo na bread jaisa hai.

Na cake jaisa.

Bas... idli jaisa.

Kuch kehte hain yeh idea bahar se aaya.

Trade ke saath. Logon ke saath.

History ne receipt nahi rakhi.

Aaj yeh sab sochne ka waqt nahi hota.

Plate aati hai. Do idli.

Haath se todte hain.

Steam nikalti hai.

Thoda sambar. Thodi chutney.

Sambar alag jagah ka hai.

Chutney alag.

But plate ek hi hai.

School tiffin mein.

Train ke dabbe mein.

Hospital ke khane mein.

Ghar ke Sunday breakfast mein.

Itni common hai ki notice nahi karte.

Jo kahin aur se aata hai...

Woh dheere dheere apna ho jaata hai.

Itna apna...

ki lagta hai hamesha se yahin tha.