Arhi SS: Tewari & Sons, No. 23, Chandni Chowk (THREAD I) - Page 26

Saturday saturday
kardi rahendi yeh kudi
saturday saturday

You are a brilliant writer...along with making us all so nostalgic about our school days, you are keeping us at the edge of our seat with all the mystery.

Chapter 3: Aamne Saamne

The trick to making good motichoor ke ladoo, as Khushi had learnt from Baba was to throw in a fistful of sooji into the batter. This made sure that the ladoos got a texture that was just perfect. Five hundred ladoos were hardly a big order, but this had been the biggest order that Tewari & Sweets had managed to get in the last couple of months. And the best part was that it had come from someone who was not a regular patron of the shop. This could only mean good news for the business.

Tewari & Sons which was going to be sixty years old in January next year was started by Pradeep Tewari, a eighteen-year-old who had just moved from Allahabad to Delhi in search of employment. Jobs were scarce for someone who had only some schooling to his credit and he took on odds end daily wage earner jobs. An elderly relative of his, who ran a tea stall in Kashmiri Gate, employed him out of pity. Working at the tea stall, gave Pradeep the confidence that he could not only manage something like this of his own, it could well be his life calling. And thus, in January 1954, he began Tewari Chaat, with a low-interest loan from his father-in-law. He relocated his mother, father and fifteen-year-old wife to Chandni Chowk, to run this hole-in-the-wall enterprise. For the first six months, the only item on offer was Dahi Bhalla, something that they are known for even today. Each plate of dahi bhalla was made lovingly by Tewari's wife and mother, the lentil paste fried to give it the right spongey-texture, soaked in thick curd made from buffalo milk and care taken to not make it sour and topped off with saunth, a tangy and sweet chutney. Though, there were a dozen dahi bhalla stalls on very street that they were located, each recipe had its own twist and therefore a loyal clientele. Soon business grew and all kinds of chaat and savoury snacks made their way into the menu. In the year 1962, when Pradeep Tewari's son Mahesh was born, he decided to rename the store Tewari & Sons. It was also the year that mithais were introduced in the menu. By the time the second-generation Tewari took over, business had grown almost thirty-fold and it moved to become more of a sweet shop than a snacks place. It just made more business sense to make sweets, that had better margins and were less perishable than snack items. Though business was good, the facade of the shop like much of Chandni Chowk eateries did not transform and it remained the original hole-in-the-wall set-up.

While Mahesh Tewari took forth his father's legacy and turned it into a thriving business, he did not produce the progeny to make the Tewari & Sons legacy survive beyond his lifetime. A confirmed bachelor, he spent his time between having controversial opinions on the political climate, following fortunes of the Indian cricket team and trying to make Tewari & Sons the goto place for Bedmi Puri, Aloo Subzi and Nagori Halwa. His father made Dahi Bhalla the signature dish of Tewari & Sons, but unfortunately it was a crowded space. This is why Mahesh Tewari wanted to appropriate the relatively uncommon Bedmi Puri space, However, he did not meet with success. Tewari & Sons fate was completely sealed when in 1995, a local newspaper classified Tewari & Sons as the fifth best place for Dahi Bhallas in Chandni Chowk.

By the late 90s however, Tewari & Sons had run into difficult times. With large chains like Anandrams opening their well-lit air-conditioned places in Chandni Chowk, footfalls began to become lesser. The more aggressive places, with one-signature dish continued to thrive, but places like Tewari & Sons, which did not have any unique proposition began to suffer. Mahesh Tewari began to lose interest in the business, especially with his cricket obsession and betting taking a rather ugly turn. By 2006, the shop was mortgaged. In 2007, his house followed. A year later, in the height of the cricket betting controversy, a number of small-time bookies got pulled up and Mahesh Tewari was among them. Questioning revealed that Mahesh Tewari had put in money on behalf of many people, but finding no real evidence, he had been let off by the authorities. Mahesh Tewari died a few months after, evidently plagued by worries of debts that he had accumulated and a broken heart. Garima Gupta, a woman who ran another mithai shop just two streets away was named in his will. It took the lawyers a year to track her down, though she lived a few streets away. And the debt-filled and almost falling apart Tewari & Sons came to Khushi's family.

This windfall, was not a happy time for the Guptas. Life had been tough as is without the added problem of people's questions that had no answers to and debtors whom they could not repay. Their little world had been torn apart, yet again. But as Khushi watched Faisal Bhaii, the head cook of Tewari & Sons throw in some saffron into the sugar syrup and moti mixture, she knew that had to draw on a life lesson that had held her in good stead through tough times, don't think about things that make you uncomfortable.

"Faisal Bhaii, ladoo bahut chote mat banayiye, kanjoosi nahin bilkul."

"Nahin Didi, bilkul bade bade banenge," Faisal Bhaii gestured with his palms, almost making it seem like a medium sized coconut.

"Nahin, Faisal Bhaii. Utne bade bhi mat banana. Acha main college jaaoon? Yahan meri zaroorat toh nahin hogi agle do teen ghanto ke liye?"

"Jao, Didi, Main sab dekh loonga."

Maa always used to tell her that even in the toughest of times, there is one person who will be your ally, sometimes unexpectedly. Even if they can't end your troubles, they make it easier to get by with them. And in the last few years, Faisal Bhaii had taken on that mantle in Khushi's life. She looked at the watch as she left Tewari & Sons, it was a quarter to twelve, she needed to return by three, when Anjali Bose's brother would be here for the order.

**

Arnav was really distracted that day. It was not just the nervousness of meeting Khushi, but the more he thought about it, he couldn't help but feel that he was cornering Khushi and it bothered him a little bit. Normally, Arnav was reluctant to even be around people when he was clearly wanted, but here he was trying to ingratiate himself when he was clearly unwanted. This was deceit and he hated that. Perhaps, he should send the driver to pick up the sweets, just like he had sent the driver last evening to make the payment in full. Yes, that is what he would do. Arnav Singh Raizada did not do ridiculous things like play ladoo delivery boy or worse stalk former classmates of his. Just as he was about to pick up the phone to call Mohan, the trusted driver of the Raizadas, NK walked in his cabin.

"Arnav, you won't believe what I found in the newspaper today," as always an over excited NK sat on the chair across him and threw a copy of the Times of Delhi on Arnav's face. Arnav picked up the paper, bracing for the worst. This would not be the first time the media would carry a report on one or the other Raizada, oftentimes not particularly flattering. He searched the first four pages of the supplement and found nothing beyond reports on Bollywood starlets. But there on page five was a photograph of a familiar face, his fiance Payal Samir Singh, looking every bit the young Delhi socialite in her knee-length dress. It was a piece on the gen-next of Indian politics. Reading through, Arnav was amused by some of the answers.

Q: What is more important to you, fashion or politics? What is your true calling?

P: Fashion is what pays my bills, but politics is in my blood.

Q: You are marrying Arnav Singh Raizada soon, was this an arranged match or love?

P: Nobody arranged anything. It was not a movie-like love match either. One day we were having coffee and thought it would be a good idea to marry. And so we are.

Arnav shook his head as he folded the newspaper neatly and handed it back to NK. Payal had a pragmatic view on their relationship and it worked well for them. But seeing this in print, might provide fodder for the Payal baiters in his life, namely mom, Di and NK.

"Yeah, Payal said that the journalist from TOD had been persistent about doing an interview. By the way, we should do the Kalpavriksha meeting day after instead of tomorrow. Payal has an election rally to go to tomorrow."

"Isn't Payal getting too involved in politics lately? Is that good for our company?"

"Well, she only works as a consultant with Raizada Designs, so I don't see why this will make a difference, positively or negatively. Do you see a problem?"

"No. I mean, yeah. Her political party.. as in her dad's party.. Indian National Party is the one that is creating a nuisance all the time at fashion shows, etc. So was wondering."

Arnav did not agree with the politics of INP, but in his head INP and Payal were separate entities and therefore he did not see an conflict.

"So when do we leave for the pooja at Di's place? We will go together, yes?" NK asked.

"I don't know. I have to go and pick up some mithai first.. from Chandni Chowk," Arnav said, even as he braced himself for NK's barrage of questions.

"What are you saying? What Chandni Chowk? What do you mean? What is going on?"

And so Arnav tried to explain, while NK seemed way too excited at the turn of events.

"Wow Arnav! This might be the first time you might have done something that deserves my respect."

"Shut up, NK."

"No, really. Does Payal your not-arranged-and-not-quite-love to be bride know about your mild stalker-like tendencies."

"No. She is busy, so we haven't spoken."

"Gotta appreciate that politics is in her blood after all."

"Hmm. So unless you want to leave office at two itself and come all the way to Chandni Chowk, I won't be able to give you a ride."

Arnav was certain that NK would tag along with him. His curiosity about Khushi had certainly been piqued and he wasn't one to let go off an opportunity to meet an attractive woman.

"No. I will go with with chachi and chacha. They are going to be there, right?"

Arnav nodded, somewhat surprised. Yes, his parents would be there at the pooja. If they didn't show up, his sister would be mad. They better show up.

**

Lavanya looked at the number that Aakash had written down on a tiny piece of paper and handed it over to her when they had met sometime ago. She had stuffed the paper in her bag and had not looked at it for days. But today she fished it out from her bag and looked at it.

Should she call Khushi Kumari Gupta?

Would it be awkward?

Of course, it would be. They hadn't spoken in ages and the last time the spoke was not the best of time. Words were said, hurtful and spiteful words that she felt sorry for having uttered, almost as soon as they left her mouth. But she couldn't say sorry then. She had a couple of opportunities after too. But she didn't, still smarting from what she considered was a slight by Khushi.

And then over the last few years, as she retold the story to herself, somehow she had convinced herself that she was not so much to blame.

This was not the first time that Aakash had suggested that she reach out to Khushi and rekindle their friendship.

"Come on, La, you are both nice people and my friends. Why don't you try to resolve things at least now."

But Lavanya had declined because in her mind it was pointless. They had all clearly moved on with their lives. After several failed attempts in sports, she had finally made peace that she was not going to bring any great sporting glory to her country and instead started a Sports Talent Management Company, to identify talent at school-level and help them gain corporate sponsorship to get themselves state-of-art training and infrastructure. The company was now three years old and they had identified a couple of talents that Lavanya was proud of. She had over the years lost in touch with most of her New-Ons classmates with the exception of Aaaksh, Veena and Karthik. Of course, some of them had made enough of their lives to get featured in the newspaper or married well enough to turn into Page 3 socialites, but she had left that world behind her. In hindsight, the enormously privileged world of New-Ons was one that she no longer identified with. Perhaps she never did.

Lavanya had no idea what Khushi was doing currently, Aakash remained rather vague about it.

"She is in Delhi these days," he had said when he gave her Khushi's number.

Did she work somewhere? Was she still in Chandni Chowk? Did her family still run a mithai shop? There was only one way to find out and she picked up her phone.

"Hello?" the voice at the other end came across with some hesitation.

"Khushi?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Khushi, hi! This is Lavanya.. Lavanya Kashyap.. we went to school together..."

"Of course. Hi, Lavanya, it is.. good to hear from you. How are you? Are you in Delhi?"

Khushi sounded genuinely happy to hear from her, so this was a relief for Lavanya. It was probably a good idea that they had spoken. They chatted about things for a bit. Lavanya told Khushi about her impending marriage and Khushi congratulated her.

"I want to personally invite you for my wedding. When can we meet and where? Where do you stay these days?"

Lavanya sensed a slight hesitation from Khushi before she gave her address as Tewari & Sons, No. 23 Chandni Chowk. Lavanya hung up saying she would meet Khushi in the next couple of days, but would call before coming. As she looked at the address, she wondered about Khushi's life. What was Tewari & Sons? Was she married? So, she had still stayed in Chandni Chowk after all these years.

She felt sorry for Khushi and was glad that she had called her after all.

**

Anjali was tensed as she let the Maharaj into her house. He was to prepare the meal for her guests and was already an hour behind schedule.

"Ho jayega, beta, ho jayega," the man said rather coolly as he walked towards the kitchen. Anjali, not the calmest of people under pressure, had to use every ounce of her strength to not get flustered. She better call Chotey and check on the ladoo situation immediately. She tried his number a few times and each time it rang out. Great! He has probably forgotten and now who will go all the way to Chandni Chowk to get her mithai, she wondered. As she started skimming through the address book to find Arnav's office landline number, her phone rang, thankfully her brother was around.

"Chotey!"

"Ya, Di?"

"Ladoos."

"What about them?"

"Chandni Chowk."

"Wow! Is this some new thing, to communicate using only one word."

"Wiseass! You go and collect my ladoos right away."

"There is still time, Di. I was wondering if I should send Mohan instead of going myself. It might be awkward if I go."

"And you think of this now after you made your grand Raj Malhotraesque plans?"

"You are using God to get your way. You can't judge me, Di. Don't worry, I will go and get the ladoos personally."

"Good. Maybe you can bring Khushi to the pooja too?"

"Just be happy that mom is coming, Di. I will be there soon."

"See you soon."

It was a quarter past two, Arnav picked up his car keys and left office

**

Poonam Raizada was a beautiful woman. She was tall, had a well-maintained figure, had beautiful features and was always impeccably dressed. Any room that she walked into, she would make heads turn, people pause what they were doing and often turn them into blubbering idiots. She was sixty one, about ninety percent of her hair was grey that she did not make any attempt to colour or dye, thus lending further to her regal air. She was a fifty percent stakeholder in AR Enterprises, that her husband Anand Raizada started about thirty five years ago. AR enterprises had a diversified portfolio and had business interests in construction and infrastructure development, software consultancy and retail. Her husband, an astute businessman built all of it from scratch and periodically made it into every Influencers List published. Poonam Raizada was no trophy wife and had an active interest in the business and looked after almost all the new business initiatives of AR Enterprises.

Her involvement had become more over the years, especially since both her children had not shown any inclination to involve themselves in the business. Her first-born, Anjali, from whom she had great expectations from had now embraced a semi-hippie lifestyle and actively shunned everything that her parents had taken great pride in building. Though, she loved her daughter and felt mildly indulgent towards her anarchist son-in-law, she would not trust them with even a part of the business. Then there was her son Arnav, from whom everyone had great expectations and in who she saw a lot of herself. Arnav was very bright and successful in his own right and that right there was Poonam Raizada's problem. She was a good mother and wanted success for her children, but she had also hoped that like Anjali, Arnav too would not find success on his own and that would make him re-evalaute his choices and return to AR Enterprises. So when Raizada Designs became a listed company and was profitable in its own right, she had certainly not felt as happy. Her big hope from Arnav then was that he marry someone who would take an interest in the business. And now that he was all set to marry Payal Samir Singh, she wasn't particularly happy with her son's choice of life partner.

For long, Poonam Raizada had expected that her son would marry someone whom she would not approve of. This thought began to occupy her mind the day Anjali had announced that she would be marrying Arjoon. Arnav had been instantly supportive of his sister and had over the last few years developed a complete devotion for his brother-in-law. In some ways, Poonam Raizada was pleasantly surprised that Arnav wanted to marry Payal. Anand had been thrilled when Arnav had spoken to them, but Poonam remained unsure about Payal's suitability as a Raizada daughter-in-law. For one, Payal was a little too overbearing for her liking. Poonam Raizada did not like that one bit. Another reason for her discomfort with Payal was that she worked in the same area as Arnav. This meant that Raizada Designs would always hold prominence over AR Enterprises. But her biggest concern against against Payal were her political connections. While corporates always benefited from their political connections, Poonam Raizada believed that the two needed to be kept as far away as possible. She did not want the funds of AR Enterprises to to be syphoned away as party fund. And she wouldn't put it past Payal to do that.

Poonam Raizada was not an evil, money hungry woman. It is just that between her husband's love for golf, her daughter's love for socialism and her son's love for independence, there was nobody in the family who cared about money. Someone needed to do that job.

Her train of thought was interrupted by her cheerful nephew, NK.

"Chachi, I am coming to Di's house with you. Is that okay?"

"Of course, it is. We will leave in an hour?"

"Sure."

"NK, why didn't you come with Arnav? He is coming right?"

"Ya, chachi. He has gone to Chandni Chowk to pick mithai for the pooja. He will come directly form there. I will freshen up and be down in a bit."

After NK left, Poonam Raizada shook her head. What is with her children with pooja and mithai, she wondered. Something seemed off. Anjali was not exactly the religious type, neither was her son-in-law. And Arnav was going to Chandni Chowk of all places? Something was not right and she would find out. She needed help from the one person she trusted the most. She picked up the intercom.

"Hari Prakash. Mere study mein fauran aao, kaam hai."

**

"Gaadi mein rakhwa down?" an elderly gentleman interrupted Arnav's thoughts as he looked around nervously. He was at Tewari & Sons, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Ji," Arnav said gratefully and handed over the car key to him, pointing to his monstrous looking Duster, sandwiched between two cycle rickshaws.

He looked around the shop, it was not crowded unlike the other day that he was here with Payal and NK. There was no didi in the front dazzling the crowd with her jalebi making skills. The large wok at the entrance, empty. There was a large sign that said - Yahan Special Dahi Bhalla Milta Hai. The little boy whom he saw the other day was not around, neither was the nervous jalebi maker. The elderly gentleman who kept the packed ladoos in his car returned and handed the keys over to Arnav.

"Dhanywavaad."

"Koyi baat nahi. Paise toh aapne poor de diya. Bill chahiye, kya?" the man asked Arnav, seeing that he was lingering there.

"Nahin.. woh.. Khushi hai, kya?"

"Khushi Didi? Aap jaante hain unhe?"

"Ji..unse bhi ek baar mil loon toh.."

"Woh office mein hain," the elderly man said pointing at the staircase, "Bula kar lata hoon."

He disappeared behind the staircase, while Arnav waited somewhat nervously. It took a while before he heard sounds of people descending down. First the elderly gentleman emerged. A girl followed him, except that she was not Khushi. A few minutes later another girl came down and he was face to face with her.

**

"Hi, Khushi."

"Hi."

"Actually, my sister had ordered five hundred motichoor ladoos, I came to pick that up."

"Oh. Anjali Bose is Anjali Di.."

"Yeah."

Arnav had expected Khushi to get angry. Or flustered. Or upset. But she seemed rather poised and cool seeing him suddenly. Perhaps the other day she did not make the connection, but today she did. The other girl who had come down was now speaking with Khushi and they were fixing a time for their next meeting. Arnav looked at Khushi, as discreetly as she could. She looked the same. Unlike the rest of his friends from school and college who had all aged considerably in the last couple of years, Khushi looked pretty much the same. It was probably because her eyes still had that eager and earnest look. She was dressed in a cotton salwar kameez. It didn't have the carefully cultivated nouveau frumpiness of Fab India, nor did it have Sarojini Market bargain look. It looked like the middle ground.

Stop judging Khushi on her clothes and appearance, Arnav, he mentally chided himself. He had done that already far more number of times than he had been proud of. But undeniably, he was curious about her and right now he only had his own fertile imagination to go with. The other girl finally left and Khushi waved at her. After this she turned towards Arnav and looked at him, rather intently. Uncomfortable, he had looked away.

"Lets go and sit there," Khushi thankfully broke the awkward silence and pointed to one of the tables.

"Will you have chai," she asked and even before he could answer, she turned towards the gentleman, whom she referred to as Faisal Bhaii and asked him to bring two cups of tea.

"Dahi bhalle khayenge, kya?" Faisal Bhaii asked her.

"Pasand hain ki nahin, pata nahin" she turned towards Arnav, a questioning look. Was it Arnav's imagination that he almost saw a dare in her eyes - as if this weak person will be able to stomach the pungent, earthy flavours of Chandni Chowk.

"Bilkul le aayiye," Arnav said in his friendliest tone to Faisal Bhaii, who seemed to take this as a personal compliment and left smiling. Arnav understood where Khushi was coming from. Fifteen-year-old Arnav would have turned up his nose at dah bhalla. Twenty-year-old Arnav would have known better, but done the same. But now thankfully, he knew better than to indulge in blatant classism. Or at least he hoped that he had learnt.

They sat in the same place where Arnav had sat when he had come here with Payal and NK. Khushi who had her hair tied up into a messy bun, sat across him. When she turned behind to see when a customer walked in, her bun fell apart and her hair framed her face. He noticed that her hair was as long as it always was. She had not even changed her hairstyle in the last fourteen odd years.

"I am sorry that I showed up like this," Arnav began, not sure where his train of thought was going even as he was mid-way into the sentence.

"What do you want, Arnav? Other than the motichoor ke ladoo that is," Khushi looked at him warily.

"I honestly don't know. I think it was when you didn't recognise me the other day, it hit me that you had every right not to and so I wanted to meet you and talk."

"I don't want to rake the past, Arnav. It is of no use to either you or me."

"But Khushi, we were once friends and there is no reason for us to not move past things that went wrong."

"It was silly of me to pretend not to recognise you the other day. I did that to skip this conversation. I don't know how you see the past, Arnav, but we were never friends. Which is okay. And the truth is, we never will be in the future either. Which is okay too."

Anything else that Arnav could have said was interrupted by Faisal Bhaii bringing in chai and dahi bhallas. As he and Khushi sat there drinking chai together, Arnav realised that their was far greater camaraderie in their silence than in their conversation. Perhaps, Khushi, who had always been more well-adjusted than most people he knew was right when she said that status quo was okay and not everything in life needed to get resolved and achieve closure. And yet, as he polished the plate of excellent dahi bhalla, in his heart Arnav knew that okay wasn't nearly enough for him. He couldn't give up that easily.

He wouldn't.

**

NEXT

🥳

Nice update.

In my part of the world it is already Sunday, but it must be Saturday somewhere 😛

Ha ha, its still saturday for me, so you are right on time!

You have an amazing eye for detail, YB! Details of place history, people, characters, events that together create the picture.

I loved your spot on description of the nouvea frumpniess of Fab India clothes and the middle class Sarojini Market stuff!! That was brilliant.

Khushi is a tremendous enigma and I have feeling there's a lot simmering underneath that she herself is not aware of let alone curious as a cat Arnav who will not let bygones be bygones.


Btw, I love your yellow boots😃

Res 🥳
now i can sleep🤣