Ganja, gulab jamun & gud

“Yeh kya pata hai aapko?” demanded Anil Pandeyji, the fortyish driver, my companion on the 1650 km onroad trip from Jamshedpur to Ludhiana while flashing a 3 feet green plant in mid-February. We were parked on the roadside, 40 km away from Shahjanpur, Uttar Pradesh, for our morning tea. The weather was supine with sun and gentle breeze playing friendly game with us. I was brushing my teeth with a stub of neem stalk. Don’t know when was the last time I had used neem stalk instead of the bristled toothbrush. I simply could not recognise the plant Pandeyji was brandishing and naturally responded with “Tell me, na?”.

“Ganja plant!” he chortled.

“What? Ganja?” I retorted. I had never seen a ganja plant in my life so far. Not that I am unaware of ganja as a “nasha” item. Never ever had I seen it in the form of plant. For me, it was always in the powder or crushed dry leaves form. Naturally I was puzzled.

How did ganja sprout in the middle of the paddy field on the Uttar Pradesh roadside? Sensing my discomfort, Pandeyji explained that these patch of ganja ought to have germinated from the remnants of ganja thrown by passengers who had halted for a tea break and partaken the nasha item.

“No, this is not a place where they are grown for commercial consideration,” he hastened to add. Out of curiosity, I grabbed the plant from his hands and plucked a few green leaves to crush. The patch of ganja plants at the back of the roadside dhaba was sizeable: maybe 200 individual plants, each, two or three feet high. They were hale and hearty. Green and swaying in the morning breeze. When dried and crushed, what damage they can cause to the homo sapiens was unimaginable. They are all God’s own creation, no doubt.
**
Even before I could recover from ganja shock, I began to notice sweetmeat shops tomtoming about “gulb jamun” warranting a question as to what is so special about the gulab jamun of Michaelganj. “Kakki dekko,” pat came the reply from second driver Pervez Khan. We alighted down for sampling.

Every single shop in the crowded marketplace boasted they were the best. If so, which one to choose? Pandeyji, a regular traveller on this route, without any loss of time guided us to Ramakant’s “mashoor” dukaan – a favourite stop for his gulab jamun consumption.



The elderly Ramakant filled up three plastic containers with two gulab jamun each. Piping hot they were. I noticed that every shop on this busy stretch was selling more and more gulab jamun: many were picking up these sugary, dark and soft brownish sweetmeats in mud pots – not in glass or plastic or tin containers – for consumption at home or wherever.

“Gulab jamun galli hai, yeh,” chipped in Pervez Khan. Ramakant kaka was eagerly dishing out more to buyers. Pandeyji, expectedly, opted for a second helping. I could not, though wanted to, because I am diabetic. But would not mind stopping at this junction again, next time.
**
Traversing through Uttar Pradesh after entering from Bihar before exiting into Haryana at Karnal several hours later, one could not escape witnessing sugarcane fields. Occasionally, we would pass over onsite gud (jaggery) making. The wafting jaggery aroma is unmistakable.

Pandeyji, a hardcore UP Brahmin with an agricultural background besides “drivery”, promised to halt at one of the gud factories en route to give me a first hand exposure. I seldom had any idea when and where he would oblige me. It did happen in Shamli, situated on the Meerut-Karnal unmotorable road, which was 15 kilometre before one crossed the river that separates Uttar Pradesh from Haryana.

“This is it,” the graduate-turned-Raymond’s sporting Pandeyji thundered before slowing down on the roadside near a gud manufacturing facility. We jumped out in glee. Rather I. Diabetic and therefore can’t afford to partake sweets, so what? At least, I can see. Say around a dozen people were busy in an old-style tiled roof shed:



Some feeding neatly laid out sugarcane bundles into the crusher; someone manning three huge vats with simmering boiled sugarcane juice in various stages; someon was thrusting dried sugarcane leaves into oven as fuel three feet down. Honestly, it was disgusting to watch the dirty sugarcane juice cruising through the narrow cemented canal from the crusher to the ground level tank.



There was some amount of cleansing of sugarcane juice was in progress. Someone was lifting hot and liquid gud from the final melting vat to pour into the huge aluminium plate where it was spread evenly by another helper. Once it solidified – it happens quickly – many sitting around the plate began slicing them into small cakes. Soon, I saw them dumping the warm gud cakes into a mound near the corner of the room.



Pandeyji picked up his usual quota of 10 kilos for his family and friends. Once he bought almost a quintal (100 kg) just before Sankranti. “Nowhere in India, you will get to see gud in this small cake form,” he explained. What about me? Yes, I did take just one kilo. “What? Is that sufficient?” asked the owner of the gud facility.



He does not know about my diabetic history. However, I bit into a stub of sugarcane and one small piece of gud cake. Oh, God, you’ve been cruel!

NOTE: This trip (1650 km from Jamshedpur to Ludhiana over 6 days/6 nites was sponsored by Credence Logistics Ltd, Mumbai. www.credencelogistics.com)