SnackX Blog

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Yeh Hai Mumbai Meri Jaan.

Jara Hatke, Jara Bachke, Yeh hai Mumbai meri Jaan.

And the Jaan of Mumbai, the lifeline of Mumbai, The Mumbai Local train is at a halt. Never had anyone in their dreams thought that the seats for which hundreds of folks rustled every day will stare an empty gaze every morning. The place that had the restlessness of an early going office employee, the discussion of a never-ending political conundrum, the slowly growing love stories, the cacophony of the everyday sellers. It had it all the Mumbai Locals.

Everyone is missing those hustle, those laughter, those days. Though the unlock has begun, still, it's not like the older days. But all we can do is to have hope. A hope for good.

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ENGINEER'S DAY

Late-night Maggie, hours of useless conversations, debt in the canteen, one night stand for semesters, sleeping in between lectures, mass bunking on Mondays, begging Professors for attendance, chilling with friends on the terrace. If you have done all these things then congratulations, You are an Engineer. Eight semester, tiring practicals, hundreds of vivas and never-ending assignments- in spite of all these hectic syllables, Engineers still manage to add a slice of happiness in their lives.

Engineers' Day is celebrated on the birth anniversary of one of the greatest Indian Engineer and Bharat Ratna, Mokshagundam K Vishweshvaraya, popularly known as Sir MV. Visvesvaraya. He was a true genius as well as the Diwan of Mysore from 1912-1919.

SnackX wishes a Happy Engineers' Day to all our Engineers who are working tirelessly and passionately towards the growth of our country.

It's a day to celebrate their hard work and dedication!

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TACOS

I had never eaten Tacos in my entire life. I came to Delhi University from a very remote area in Bihar. The only fast food I knew was, Singhada( also known as samosa). One evening, during a conversation, My friend Sumit told me he loves Tacos. I had a sigh of relief. I thought finally he got a girlfriend; he would stop scratching my brain now. But, how did he land up with a girl having such a strange name?

"Foreigner?" I asked him.

"Yeah, Mexican, " he replied.

I was dumbstruck. How did he land up with a Mexican girl in Delhi? The dumb Sumit who was rejected by Priya last week, and Suman a week before, had got a Mexican girl? Oh! God. Have some mercy.

I thought Sumit is making all of this. He is lying. I can trust my friend, he is not capable of something like this. He is a moron like me. The only difference is, I come from a remote area in Bihar, and he is from Delhi. But, that doesn't make any difference. He is still a moron.

"So, when are you taking her for a date?" I asked.

"Who?"

"C'mon, don't be shy."

"I don't understand."

"Tacos. When are you taking her for a date? Idiot."

Sumit looked at me as if he had seen some alien from Mars. It looked as if he would remove his shoes and would hit himself on his face. He felt like crying. He wanted to slap me, but he felt a certain sympathy towards me.

He stood up and began leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" I asked him impatiently.

He didn't reply.

"Arrey, where are you going?" I asked again.

Again, no reply. I grabbed him by my hands and kept asking him. Tell me. Tell me. Are you going to meet Tacos?

"No, I am going to eat Tacos, " he shouted and left.

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SPAGHETTI

It was a routine, once a week, I would eat Spaghetti. There was a Spaghetti corner near my house where every evening there were hundreds of people waiting for their Spaghetti. And it was run by, Mamta Aunty. She was the one who introduced us to her special Spaghetti.

One day, late at night, I went to the Spaghetti corner. Mamta aunty was closing the shop. I quickly went to her and requested if she could take one more order. She agreed happily. She once again opened the whole shop and began making spaghetti just for me.

You might be thinking Mamta aunty to be of the age around fifty five. But she was nearly seventy years old. I was always intrigued by the fact that how she is running this shop at such an old age. I thought today is the right moment to ask her.

"Aunty, can I ask you one thing, " I asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, go on, " she said spreading the Spaghetti on the griddle.

I waited for a moment and then asked.

"Aunty, why are you running a shop at such an old age?"

She stopped for a moment. Her eyes were fixed on the Spaghetti as if she was remembering something. As if I had touched a fresh wound. She then looked at me.

"Life is not always the bed of roses, " she stopped for a moment and then continued, "For me, it has always been thorns. I won't say much because I don't want to remember all that, but, all I will say is- sometimes in your life you have to stand for yourself."

She stopped there and began cooking the spaghetti. I didn't say anything further. I had got all my answers.

The Spaghetti arrived and I ate in silence.

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CHEESE BURGER

I ordered the Cheese Burger for the first time since the COVID started. Before COVID I would eat the Burger thrice a week. Oh! Not the Macdonalds ones. The one's from the Shyam Burger stall. The package had arrived and I took all the precautionary measures and received the package. It was still hot. I could feel the heat from the polythene in which it was wrapped. Also, I could feel my mouth watering like a stream.

I began eating. At first, it was so hot that I burned my mouth. But, I couldn't control. I continued eating the Burger. Enjoying the main masala, salads and occasional crunch of raw onions. It took me less than three minutes to finish the whole. My eyes were closed during the whole eating process.

As I open my eyes, I see my Mom standing in front of me, with her eyes burning me down. "What is this, "she asks. " Burger, " I replied. To this, she became more furious. I felt I would turn into ash at the very moment. "What is this on your shit?" She says. I instantly looked at my shirt. Hell! What has happened? It was usual for me but I knew Mom won't forgive me. My t-shirt was yet again coloured by the ketchup sauce, like always when I had a burger.

I thought Mom would beat me and forget everything. But, No, she gave me a more harsh punishment. I had to clean my t-shirt on my own.

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Chicken Roll

We met there for the first time at Karim fast food stall. I was there waiting for my chicken roll order, and she just arrived there. She was breathing heavily.

"Bhaiya Ek Chicken roll pack Karna jaldi, " she said in a hurry.

"Madam thoda time lagega," Karim bhaiya replied.

And I was there looking at the girl from a distance. Should I ask her if her name is Simran? Her face resembles Simran. She might be the 24th girl to which I was asking. Simran was my childhood friend who left the city of Kolkata at an early age and settled in New Delhi after her father got a transfer. She was my neighbour. It has been fifteen years now. There was no contact with her from the day she left. I was here in Delhi for almost one month for some official work.

So, I was here, again in the dilemma of asking her name. But I told myself to give another try. There is no harm if I fail. But what if I succeed?

"Excuse me, " I ask her.

"Yes, " she replied turning her back.

"Is your name Simran? Please don't mind I am just asking, " I asked hoping I was true this time.

She looked at me for a moment (from head to toe).

"Sorry, but my name is Ankita Sharma, " She told.

I immediately apologised and turned backwards. I have shamed myself yet again. I didn't want to be here. I was about to go when I again heard a voice from behind.

"Yaar, Tu bhul gaya mera Ghar ka naam Simran tha, aur School ka Ankita.

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RAS MALAI

Your mouth must have watered by reading the title only. Yeah, such is the craze of this sweet, Rasmalai. Even after you finish the main sweet, the sweet creamy syrup has its own flavour and taste. The only thing which is left after eating the whole Ras malai is regret. The regret of finishing it so quickly.

It is believed to have originated somewhere in Eastern India, presumably in the Odisha and Bengal region. The K.C. Das Grandsons confectioners claim that it was invented by K.C. Das, but this claim is said to be "impossible to verify". According to The Diner's Dictionary: Word Origins of Food and Drink published by Oxford University Press- The term comes from Hindi raś 'juice', and malai 'cream'.

Rasmali has chhena balls which are soaked in malai (clotted cream) and flavoured with cardamom. The soft easy to cut chhena balls melt in your mouth giving you the flavour of the sweet malai. Ah! It's refreshing.

Drooling over the Ras malai. Don't worry. Have patience. SnackX is there for you Anytime, Anyday, Anywhere!

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CHILLI PANEER

Mrinal made one of the best chilli paneers I have ever eaten. Yeah, he was a master of it. I met him in my first year of college. He was a thin boy with curly hairs wearing spectacles. He used to keep a gas stove in his room. One day I accidentally landed in his room. And I found him busy mixing some type of masala in a pan. I was quite intrigued by this. And then we started talking and he offered me the chilli paneer after it was made. That was the first time I ate chilli paneer by him. And that was the time when I fell in love with the chilli paneer he used to make.

Be it any occasion, Mrinal would always be ready with his chilli paneer. He always told that engineering doesn't fit him, he wanted open a chilli paneer stall. He even told that his parents would never agree on his dreams and he might have to give up his dreams. After the college was over we somehow lost connection. He was nowhere to be found.

It's eight in the evening now. And I think I am the happiest man on this planet. Why? Because I am here in Ranchi for an official trip and I am standing in front of a stall of Chilli paneer. And guess its name? Mrinal Chilli Paneer stall.

SnackX and food dream goes hand in hand .

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Sonpapdi

Take one bite and spread the rest on your shirt. This is what Sonpapdi has always been to me. Yeah, my favourite sweet Sonpapdi. It was my father who worked as a ticket collector in the Bokaro steel city station, Jharkhand, who brought a pack of Sonpapdi every Friday. He would call “Ashutosh! Where are you?” and I would come running towards him and would snatch his bag to take out the Sonpapdi. And few minutes later my whole mouth would be covered with the flakes of Sonpapdi which I would lick continuously.

But life has not always been what I expected. My father always wanted me to be an IITian. But I failed miserably. I took admission in a normal engineering college and graduated without any placements. I had nothing with me after I graduated. I remained at my home and started preparing for government exams. But I failed again. I knew I was a waste. But then I tried again and again and again.

And at last, I became what my father served his whole life, A ticket collector. Yeah, I know my father had big dreams and I could never fulfill it but I am happy. At least, every Friday, I can bring a pack of Sonpapdi, and make my father smile…

Happiness can be found in little things . SnackX values your little moments of joy .

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Aloo Paratha

The very first thought when we hear the word paratha is Aloo ka Paratha. The paratha which is often found in the small round steel tiffin box of a school going, kid and the smell of the paratha along with the mango pickles that would spread in between the history classes. I often remember the days when there were almost ten hands inside my tiffin box and the paratha disappearing in a nanosecond. The only thing that was left for me in the tiffin was the leftover onion of the paratha. And the oil shining in the tiffin box.

Those mornings felt like a blessing when I would hear the sizzling sound of oil in the griddle and the paratha being upturned. Ah! That smell one can never forget it. I remember at one time I used to take two tiffin box to my school. One for my friends and one for myself. Such was the craze of Aloo paratha.

Today, I crave for those parathas that mom made. I don’t know why but I video called mom today and asked her what she is making. And guess what, she told me she is making aloo paratha. My dad was there at the dining table eating those parathas and mom was sitting opposite to him. And just beside my dad, there was my chair, like a deserted plot. Lonely and secluded. The chair where once I used to sit and eat all the heavens that mom made. Ah! Those days, I miss them badly.

Thanks to SnackX for getting me Aalu Ka Paratha, kyuki Shambhu Bhaiya ke paratho main maa ke hath jesa swad mil jata hai .

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MY GANESHA

Today was my Job interview around 1 pm. I was pretty nervous. I woke up early than the usual. Brushed my teeth, took a bath and got dressed. Mother gave me a pack of Ladoos and told me to go to the Ganesha Temple and offer it as a Prasad. I took the pack of Ladoos and went to the temple ( I didn't want to disagree and take any risk on my interview day).

As I was entering the temple I heard a voice from behind. Someone was calling me. I turned around and saw a beggar in tattered clothes. It looked like he had not eaten for days. But I didn't have the time to look at him because I was getting late for my interviews. But there was something in his eyes that compelled me to stay there. I looked at the pack of ladoo in my hands, and then I looked at his eyes. I don't know what came to my mind but I gave the whole pack of ladoos to him. He instantly grabbed the ladoos and began eating. He was eating like an animal.

With every ladoo going inside his stomach, he felt satisfied. His eyes looked calm.

I went home. "Did you offer the ladoo, " mom asked. "Yes, " I said. But I didn't mention whom I offered.

My interview was over and around four in the evening the results were announced. I was not selected. But I don't know why I didn't feel as bad as I should have felt. Probably those satisfied look in the beggar's eyes had something in it. Something which I have never seen in my life. Probably his eyes made my day.

Keep reading beautiful stories by SnackX.

Ganesha

Laddoo Story

Snackxtimes

Snacks

Food

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THE COMPANION

Shikha lived alone in her apartment. The city was new to her. She had recently shifted here for work. In the day time, she would spend her time in her house but at night, she used to feel very lonely. There was no one she could talk to. Though there were some of her office colleagues, but, she was a reclusive person who needed time for the friendship to began.

At night, she used to watch web series movies to pass her time. One day, late at night there was a knock on her door, not exactly a knock but it felt like someone is at the door. She went to the door and enquired about the person at the door. But there was no response. She asked again but again there was no response. She decided not to open the door. But something struck her and she changed her mind. She opened the door. Surprisingly, she saw a small and thin dog lying beside her door. He looked pale and ill. It looked it he had not eaten for days.

She quickly went into her kitchen and brought some chapatis. She gave him to eat. The dog ate all. Shikha gave him more chapatis. Finally, eating all the chapatis, the dog slept beside the door. Shikha covered her with a discarded bedsheet.

The next morning the dog was gone. But he returned again at night. And this continued for several days. Shikha began to like the dog and vice versa. They both played sometimes, also he used to do the housekeeping. Finally, Shikha found a companion in this new city. She is happy now.

There are many streets dogs, who are no longer getting even a one-time meal. And this COVID situation has worsened that. But, don't be harsh on them, be kind. They too need some love and care.

SnackX says don’t shop, go adopt.

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CHOTU

Do you know that "Chotu" who brings tea? Didn't you remember? The very same Chotu who brings the tea every morning in old government offices, in glass packed buildings, in the early morning opened shops with incense stick still smouldering, in a roadside highway Dhaba where people sit on the Charpai with crossed legs. The Chotu that wears a half pant with tea stains on it and a local banyan with small holes peeking through. The same Chotu who smiles with uneven teeth and carries a scintilla on hope in his eyes.

Now you must have recalled the Chotu. So, the next time you meet that Chotu, give him a warming smile and make him sit beside you. Talk with him for a few minutes, ask him about his family, about his ambitions, about his dreams, and most importantly ask him his age.

Because, still, there are millions of kids who are forced to leave their studies at a very young age and are told to contribute to their family earning. Those kids are precious, they are the future of our country.

SnackX cares for such kids. The kids who are the future of our country, who have every right to get an education and be a part of the mainstream.

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Rasgulla or Rosogolla

"It's not Rasgulla, it's Rosogolla," My wife reprimanded me, every time I deviated from Rosogolla to Rasgulla. She was a Bengali and Rosogolla was just not a sweet for her, it was an emotion. I remember our pre-marriage days when we were dating. I had this habit of eating rasgullas with a spoon. Cutting it into two half and then eating one by one. But she would devour the whole ball of Rasgulla in one go and would babble with her mouth full of Rasgulla- "This is how you eat a Rosogolla."

I tried eating the Rasgulla that way once, and guess what happened? The whole Rasgulla was in my mouth without any "Ras" ( sugar syrup). It was on my new shirt.

I don't know whether I belong to the Rasgulla Gang or Rosogolla Gang but what I know is, My daughter has turned three years old now and whenever I bring Rasgullas home, she clings to me and babbles in her childish voice- PAPA LAT DULLA!

And this is the Gang I belong. LAT DULLA Gang.

Craving for those LAT GULLAS. Here comes SnackX. Anytime, Anyday, Anywhere!

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Pyaaz Pakodas

What is synonymous to rain and a cup of tea? C'mon think over it. Is it biscuits? Is it namkeen? Is it cakes? Aah! How couldn't you think of it? It's none other than Pakodas. The chemistry of rainy season and Pakodas is more famous than any of the love stories you have heard.

It's three in the afternoon and it's raining outside. I am sitting by the side of the window with a cup of tea and a plate of Pakodas. My wife is sleeping in the other room, I didn't wake her up. I made everything myself because I have a loose stomach for the last two days and if she saw me eating Pakodas, she would get mad. Even, I know the consequence of eating Pakodas but I couldn't resist. The rain didn't let me.

And as I take the first bite of Pakodas with a cup of tea, I went in a trance. The blend of fried onions and spices were perfectly balanced by the tea. I don't know why the loud chatter of the rain was definitely adding some secret flavours to the Pakoda. I can't deny it.

As I was devouring the last piece of the Pakoda left, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It felt familiar. I had chills down my spine. But I finished the last Pakoda before I was thrown to hell. 

. . . Are you are craving for those spicy Pakodas in this rainy season but are unable to go out? Don't worry Snacks is there for you. Anytime, any day!

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Jhal Muri

I have always thought about what is something that has always defined my childhood train journey. Among many, one thing that has remained close to my heart is, Jhal Muri. We were so influenced by the man who sold Jhal Muri that we would mimic his voice and would laugh among our friends. The sharp and shrill voice of the Jhal Muri was symbolic to the crowded train stations.

Something that amazed me more than the Jhal Muri itself was how it was made and how it was kept. There was a big round steel container than had sections. Every section had a masala that would be going inside the Jhal Muri. The whole container had a big rope tied at it ends which was worn by the JhalMuri wala around his neck. Also, how the dexterous hands would move picking up different masalas, chopping onions, boiled potatoes, adding mustard oil and coriander at the end, was something so satisfying to see.

The pilot has announced the takeoff and the plane is slowly moving forward. Everything here is sophisticated and advanced. The air hostesses will be shortly arriving with the drinks and snacks. Though I am having all the facilities and luxuries of my life, still, somewhere deep inside in my heart I crave for that shrill voice of JhalMuri wala, that tangy masala, that bite of onions, that creamy potato, and that never returning childhood.

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My Secret Keeper

She was my best friend since childhood. I remember how I used to play hide and seek with her when I was a child. How she used to decorate my dolls and would say that I would get a beautiful husband when I would grow up. As I grew up we became more and more connected. From sharing the pain of my first period to sharing the restlessness when I first saw my crush to sharing the heartbreak when I had my first break up, I discussed everything with her. And she would herself blush when I would tell her these private things.

Apart from everything, there was a common thread between us. The two of us were an ardent lover of Golgappa ( Puchka). Be it any season, any month, any day, Golgappa was something we never missed. We would always squint our eyes over the tangy tamarind water and we would never shy away in asking the extra Golgappa after we had finished - "Bhaiya ek sukha wala dena".

She would always tell me how incomplete she is without me.

I am twenty-nine now. Almost ten years have passed since she died and every time I do something in life I have this yearning desire to sit beside her, arms in arms, and tell her all the secrets like we use to discuss before. I wish this was just a hide and seek game that we used to play and she would appear any time and would hug me with her eternal laughter. I wish she was here, my best friend, my grandma.