Syeda Hameed and Gunjan Veda relish the delights from Chamba Valley
FROM SPECTACULAR views of the abundant mountainside to the finger-licking, three course Chamyali Dhaam (traditional feast), from museums that are a veritable treasure-house of local artifacts to quaint temples that go back a 1000 years, from bustling bazaars lined with tiny shops selling special leather chappals, Pattu (quilt) and pangi thobi (goat-hair carpets) to homes of master craftswomen who expertly showcase a 300-400 year-old-old art form, the valley of Chamba in Himachal Pradesh has a lot to offer the adventure-culture junkie.
‘We have arranged a Chamyali meal for you.’ This came from a salwar-clad Himachali man who we discovered was the pradhan of Sahoo. ‘We did not know if you would like our rustic food but we took the risk,’ he added with a shy smile.
We were hungry. The table was laden with neatly covered dishes. As the lids came off one by one, we could not help comparing Chamba cuisine with the Kashmiri wazwan. For the Kashmiris as well as the Chamyalis, this classic meal is a must at weddings and festivals, regardless of the socio-economic status of the host. In both cases, there is a set order in which dishes are served and a manner in which it is arranged. We were first served rice, followed by the ordinary, humble rajma. Nothing special, one would say. But not so the rajma in Chamba! Here, it is a delicacy known by the name madra. ‘We boil the rajma and throw away the water,’ the pradhan explained even as he heaped spoonfuls of madra on my plate. ‘Then we boil equal quantities of milk and ghee. When the milk almost disappears in the ghee, we add the rajma and spices.’ Next in line was moong daal made with freshly plucked herbs and pure spring water. A large dish of chicken (desi, not broiler) was placed before us, tender meat cooked with fresh spices like saunf and sonth. In two small bowls there were two chutneys, one green and one red. This was Chamba chugh, made by mixing freshly plucked green red chillies in the juice of the pahari lemon. The highlight of the meal, however, was a dish of guchhi or black mushrooms, priced at a formidable Rs 8,000 per kg. They are nature’s special bounty to mountain people and their story in both Chamba and Kashmir is similar. On some rainy days, when there is a flash of lighting, these mushrooms tear through the ground and spring out on select mountain slopes. Women crouch on these slopes, waiting for the shaft of light which will lift them out of the earth. Filling their baskets and dupattas, they climb down with their precious potlis (bags).
After sampling the guchhi we moved on to meetha chawal, sweet rice cooked with alomds, raisings and cardamom. Chamyali kadhi, too, is different; instead of pakora, it has pieces of sev (noodle-shaped savoury made of gram flour). It was followed by khatta, a perfect blend of tamarind and jaggery that delightfully teased the palate. By the time, kheer, the final course, was served, we were ready to call it quits. ‘But you have to taste this,’ the host, additional district magistrate Chaman Lal insisted holding out a mouth freshener mixture. We took a pinch and left the table with the taste of jarees, made from saunf and sugar, fresh in our mouths.
The next day, we visited the famous Lakshmi Narayan and Chamunda Devi temples. These temples, both of which are as old as the town itself, are closely linked to its 1000-year-old history. The former is remarkable for its exquisite stone carvings. The latter offers a breathtaking view of the Chamba Valley and of the river Raavi, which gushes by its side.
After our fill of the panoramic view, we headed towards the markets to see if we could find Chamba chappals (slippers). At one time, all over India, Chamba chappals were a brand name. That was before the market brands came in to reform our taste in footwear! And they did not need advertising campaigns for sustenance. Word of mouth ensured their popularity. Strolling through the bazaar, we saw many small footwear shops where the shoes were not only cheap but also trendy. One entire lane was lined with tiny shops selling chappals of all shapes, sizes and colours. The air was filled with the smell of leather and glue. Sitting at the back of the shop, squeezed between wooden partitions, were the artisans who can turn plain leather into beautiful art in just two hours, getting Rs 30 for every pair.
The markets and museums of Chamba are a veritable treasure-house of handicrafts. Pattu (Chamba quilt), pangi thobi (goat-hair carpets which last fifty to seventy years), Chamba paintings, metal work… the list is endless. But it is the Chamba rumaal (rumaal literally means handkerchief) which is the undisputed queen of the crafts here. It is special because it has no right or wrong side; the dorrokha stitch that is used ensures that both faces look exactly the same. Women of Chamba have embroidered the rumaal for 300-400 years; it was initially used to cover trays of food and gifts at weddings and festivals. Some people trace this art to the craftspeople brought by Chamba’s king, Umed Singh, in the sixteenth century. This art gradually became the forte of upper-class women, who would sit and embroider stories from the Ramayana, scenes from Raasleela, birds and animals – all on square pieces of silk or cotton. It would take between four months to one year to make a one-by-one rumaal, depending on the intricacy of the design.
Today, it is a handful of women master-trainers who have kept the craft alive. We met one such woman – Shamshad Begum. ‘We have to go all the way to Delhi to get the khadi cloth and the resham (silk). Imagine how our costs go up,’ she complained. She told us that design intervention and product diversification across the country has led to production of reversible shirts, tops, duppattas and screens which are less intricate and hence cheaper. But quality and grandeur is a hallmark of the original Chamba rumaal. Shamshaad explained that, even today, the girls who learn how to embroider Chamba rumaals, practise it as an art. Looking at this pleasant middle-aged woman we realized the true meaning of India, Muslim trainer, whose students are embroidering Hindu scriptures in this rare art form! (WFS)