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My Passionate Affair with Gol Gappey

by: Daniya Ali

By Daniya AliPublished 2 years ago 5 min read
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If you're from the subcontinent like me ( India, Pakistan, Bangladesh), you know that nothing beats gol gappay in the summer. Nothing beats a crispy stuffed ball, full of flavours bursting in your mouth. My first intense relationship was not with a man, but with gol gappay ( water balls). It was the summer of 2009. I was a young and innocent desi girl. My relationship with Gol Gappays was friendly and cordial at the time. I would have them occasionally, when we went to Gerard Street, or at a wedding. It was that year, when I had watched a Bollywood movie called 'Rab ne Banadi Jodi' . There was a scene where Shah Rukh Khan and his love interest stop by a Gol Gappa stall to have some gol gappays before they head home after their dance class. They both challenged each other who could have the most gol gappays. One plate after another, they devoured the Gol Gappays. In the end, Shah Rukh Khan had won. It was then, my craving for gol gappays had turned intense. I stayed up many hot July nights tossing, and turning, thinking what was once friendly, and innocent, had now turned intense. These crispy balls filled with smashed potatoes, chickpeas, curd, sev, and tangy-spicy water were now tempting me, luring me towards them.

My craving for gol gappays after watching that scene had also provoked my mom to have them too. She decided to drive us to a restaurant called Karachi Bazaar. There, we ordered three plates of gol gappays. I waited patiently, while the lady prepared the golden, crispy balls, poking a hole into its crispy layer, and filling its hollowness with potatoes, chickpeas, curd, and sev. I watched her as she then prepared the 'pani' ( water) with spice, and lemon juice, mint, and tamarind. She put it into a separate cup, and placed it next to the stuffed balls. The plate was presented in front of me. There were eight balls in my plate. Ready to be devoured by me. The yogurt and the tamarind chutney dripping from the side of the gol gappay were making my mouth watery. I took one stuffed ball, dipped it into the 'pani' cup, and let the 'paani' sink in. I could feel the stuffed ball more heavier, and the water started to seep through it, as I took it out.

I quickly put it in my mouth , letting the 'pani' drip down my lips and chin. I gently crunched into the crispy layer and the ball exploded. The spicy-tangy water burst into my mouth and gushed its way down into my throat. It was like going down a water slide, and the water gushing up at the end of the slide, drenching everyone. As I further crunched into the crispiness of the balls, the smashed potatoes, the diced onions, the yogurt, the tamarind chutney, and the sev also escaped from their assigned places. "How are your gol gapays", my mom had asked. But I couldn't answer. There was a party in my mouth. All I could do at the moment was "mmmmmmm" . As I devoured one gol gappa after another, each ingredient started to work its wonders. The diced onions had completed the need for that extra crunch I needed with the crispiness of the gol gappay. The softness of the potatoes and the chickpeas felt so velvety, as it melted in my mouth. The sev, tamarind chutney, and yogurt gave that tinge of sweetness against the tangy-spicy water. The 'pani' started to have its effects too. It wasn't soon after, with each ball exploding, and the spicy-tangy water gushing out, my brows started to get sweaty. My eyes started to get watery. My nose started to get runny. The spicy water started to burn my tongue. But that didn't stop me from devouring one gol gappa after another.

The burning sensation in my mouth, made me sweat even more. As I sweat, I couldn't escape the memory of the blazing sun, and the scorching heat that we were experiencing throughout July. I started to think of the times I had seen my mother fry 'puris', as she dipped them in the oil one by one, and they sizzled in the hot oil. It was like I was walking on hot sand, in the middle of a desert. The spice had overcome me. I was sweating, and I was a mess with a runny nose, and watery eyes. The air-conditioned seating place was no use to us after all. I needed a cold soda to calm me down. That afternoon we returned home satisfying our craving. But later that night we also faced the wrath of gol gappay. My desire for gol gappays made me forget that you will end up with an upset stomach.

The next morning, I craved gol gappays again, and my mother drove us to Karachi Bazaar, again. We had gol gappays for the remainder of the summer holidays. Each time we returned with our craving satisfied, but also faced the wrath the spice gave us. Having too much tanginess gave me a sore throat, and nausea a few times. I knew it couldn't end well. But a young girl like me could not resist the temptation, the luring of such a delicious looking delicacy. As the summer holidays were ending, my mom decided it was enough. She said, it wasn't worth spending money every time on something that makes us sick. I was heartbroken to put a break on my relationship with gol gappay.

Seasons changed. Years passed. I grew into a woman, and occasionally eat gol gappay now. But even now, when I pass by a gol gappa stall, the intensity starts to kick in. I smile and reminisce on my intense relationship with gol gappay in the summer of 2009. That year I learned that these are the only balls a brown girl would want to have in her mouth.

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