The Pani-puri Chronicles

12th June 2025

My relationship with pani-puri (or golgappe, pani-batashe, puchka whatever you call it!) is "Seriously Committed" This bond did not suddenly crop up one day, it took years of taste trials and mood customization to establish the foundation.
I started going to school on a bicycle when I was in grade 4. So my mom always asked me to keep 5 rupees so that I could get the cycle repaired in case of puncture and stuff. If by Wednesday my cycle worked fine, it was a ritual to wipe off the midweek blues (this term did not exist then!) with friends over a plate of Pani-puri. What a treat it would be!
With years passing, my commitment to panipuri started becoming serious. After coming to Pune, the taste of Panipuri changed, but my love for it and craving for it did not diminish. I got myself accustomed to the taste. On a few occasions, I even instructed a few vendors to make it the way I liked it. In six months, the fine-tuning happened, and with the change in location, my love for panipuri came back on track.



When I went home for the first time after coming to Pune, the only thing I craved badly for was the pani-puri there. My mom was undergoing a root canal treatment. I took her to the dentist in the evening as she had an appointment. I spotted my favorite pani-puri stall on our way back. And my mom could sense my craving. She advised me to have it. So I parked the scooter and ordered one plate. It was too awkward to eat alone and let my mum see me relishing it. Even the vendor asked, "Aaj bhabhi ji nahi lenge? Kyu, upwas hain?" I burst out into laughter, barely controlling it to say, "Nahi nahi. Unka daant ka treatment shuru hain. Isliye nahi kha sakte." My turn to fulfill my cravings was right in front of me. I gulped down one and popped the second one in my mouth. Looking at my expression, my mom could not resist and her hand reached for the third one before it landed on my plate. As she put it in her mouth I screamed, "Mumma, eat from left side, please!" And she did exactly that. I had the rest of the pani-puri and we paid for it. As she sat on my scooter behind me, she asked, "Let's go to the doctor and show him once." I was skeptical because the moment she would open her mouth the doctor would understand she had something. Hesitant, I still took her to the doctor again. He examined her and said everything was fine. We stepped out of the clinic and had a hearty laugh before we sat on the scooter.
Through this post, I do not intend to prescribe having pani-puri when you have an ongoing dental treatment. And if you like this impromptu, unplanned stunt by me, then do appreciate her courage, else she will kill me for sharing her most secret endeavor, that even Papa does not know. (Will know after reading this!)

This post is a part of #BlogchatterFoodfest