The festive season is upon us, and homes across much of India are collectively overflowing with sweets. But one sweet among the immense variety of Indian sweets is often overlooked and forgotten amidst the kaju katlis and badam halwas: the humble soan papdi.
The flaky, sugary yellow mithai melts in one’s mouth and is cost-effective despite its labour-intensive recipe. Yet, the lure of its more exotic-looking, though exorbitantly priced, brethren causes this delightful treat to be neglected year after year.
Every Diwali, I see reel after reel passing the mithai from one house to another, until one brave soul steps forward. Honestly, the plight of soan papdi reminds me of a couplet by the Urdu poet Iqbal:
“Hazaron saal nargis apni be-noori pe roti hai
Badi mushkil se hota hai chaman mein didawar paida”
(For thousands of years, the narcissus cries because there is no one to see it.
After much difficulty, such a one is born who can see it.)
Isn’t that the case with soan papdi?
Passed over, passed along
Rich or poor, the humble dessert is offered at every festival, wedding or celebration around the country. The plate is emptied by the end of the night. And yet, we still bemoan, “Arrey, soan papdi kyun rakhi (Oh, why do they have soan papdi)?”
Diwali’s sweet nothings have been around for generations, but only recently have they begun to be bullied, teased and made to feel less.
Visualise a typical Diwali gift hamper: there’s the diva kaju katli, the fan-favourite laddoos, the traditional gujiyas and rich Mysore pak. Yet, in the middle of all that is the sweet but forgettable soan papdi. With social media reels fuelling the promise of the new and fancy, enter gluten-free cakes, single-origin chocolate baskets and sugar-free, dairy-free gourmet boxes. Amidst all this, the simple soan papdi is shoved to the back of the collective imagination. After all, “ghar ki murgi daal barabar (the chicken at home is worth no more than lentils).”
No one ever recommends a favourite soan papdi, unlike other mithais, but it remains perennial, like the annoying relatives and Delhi’s toxic smog that descends every year.
Is it that we have had too much soan papdi? Or is it that it’s cheap? Is the flavour too simple? It can’t possibly be. We binge on one too many laddoos, kaju katli is almost the same price, and so many Indian sweets have a simpler flavour profile.
So this Diwali, as you open that gift hamper, don’t forget to take a moment to remember the soan papdi. And if you’re still not convinced, pass it along to someone who is.
Views are personal.
(Edited by Prashant Dixit)