Rewalsar: of Food Almost Sacred by Raaja Bhasin
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Sunlight was fast fading and the last rays skimmed over the top of the gentle waves of the little lake. From a distance, you could hardly discern what were waves and what was that mass of glistening fish whose numbers even along the water’s surface, seemed substantial enough to make a bridge to the other side.
And that long decade and a half back, when finger chips were not called ‘French fries’, there was nothing incongruous about sitting outside Himachal Tourism’s ‘tourist bungalow’ and eating these with tomato sandwiches dipped in healthy quantities of tomato ketchup. The bungalow’s half a dozen rooms were unoccupied and this was just about the only place where you could get a bite to eat.
The chants of the evening aarti were ending in the Krishna temple, a novice monk stepped out to ring a bell outside a Buddhist monastery and at the other end of the lake, there were barely a couple of lights on in the gurudwara. Sunset had come and Rewalsar was preparing to sleep.
This time round it was mid afternoon. There wasn’t a place to park, there was hardly place to walk and in that narrow street one felt like a slice of thin ham with no lettuce to the bread. Needless to add, just about every one of the dozen or more eating places was bursting at the seams. The ‘tourist bungalow’ was packed. The couple of other small hotels were full too. Potato chips were now French fries and would ‘take at least half an hour to be served.’ Rewalsar had certainly come a long way.
Shaped more or less like a square, this dark emerald-like lake lies amidst a variety of lush sub tropical and semi alpine vegetation. And this tiny spot is sacred to three of India’s major religions that co-exist is complete harmony. Buddhists believe that this was the spot from where Padmasambava used his yogic powers to ‘take flight’ to Tibet to spread the word of the Buddha.
The little clusters of floating reed on the lake’s waters are considered to embody his spirit and the faithful tie little pieces of scared cloth or string on these and make a wish. A variation of the legend says that the ruler of Mandi, in whose territories Rewalsar lay, burnt Padmasambhava alive at this spot. The great teacher manifested himself in a lotus, with the lake surrounding its petals. Expectedly, Buddhist monasteries have been at this spot for ages and today, there are the impressive ones that belong to the Nyingma-pa and Drug-pa sects.
For the Hindus, this is where the legendary rishi, Lomas meditated. Above Rewalsar, lie seven other lakes of legend. Near one, it is locally believed, is the place to which the Pandavas escaped when their wax palace was set alight – an episode from the epic Mahabharata. There is a revered temple dedicated to Krishna Ji at Rewalsar too.
The Sikhs have a gurudwara that was built at the behest of Raja Joginder Sen of Mandi in 1930 to commemorate the visit of Guru Gobind Singh when centuries ago, he visited the erstwhile princely state of Mandi to enlist the support of the ‘Bhai-dar’ rulers of the hills in his struggle against tyranny of Aurangzeb. The place is especially important to the Namdharis (who also have a substantial presence in nearby Mandi), as it is mentioned as a place of sanctuary in the Sau Sakhi.
As Rewalsar has become better known, an interesting spin-off has been in the diverse cultural influences that have been poured into this tiny spot. The standing population is still a thousand and a half people, even if it swells up more than a dozen-fold on occasions – as what happened at the Tsechu fair that commemorated the birthday of Padmasambhava in 2004. At that time, the offertories were done by His Holiness the Dalai Lama, while Urgyen Trinley Dorje Karmapa and some fifty thousand Buddhists were present.
And here comes one of the pleasantly unexpected turns that Rewalsar provides – the sheer variety of food that is available. For a start, the town of Mandi, the base for Rewalsar has a fairly distinctive form of cuisine. The use of anardana, pomegranate seeds (either whole or powdered), is quite popular as is the ‘core range’ of north Indian spices – cardamom, cinnamon and chillies. The extensive use of anardana and yoghurt gives many of the dishes a touch of mellow sourness and a distinct flavour. Some of the popular and readily available dishes are sepu vadi and chah meat; the latter is a mutton marinated in yoghurt and anardana and cooked on a slow fire almost till the flesh leaves the bone.
Along the highway and along the street that forms the outer cordon to the lake of Rewalsar, the small wayside places have a strong north Indian ambience. Rajmah chawal, beans and rice or kari chawal (now how would one explain that!), assorted vegetables with tandoori rotis or rice or griddle cooked chapattis are all available. Huge metal dishes simmer on coal or gas fires and often enough, have their outer part covered with clay for warming that moves evenly along the vessel. The steam in the street carries all the scented vapours with it and the you enter Rewalsar in a food-flavoured mist.
Inside, closer to the lake and to the monasteries, the food places also alter their character. For a start, most are run by Tibetans or by people who belong to the trans Himalayan districts of Lahaul-Spiti and Kinnaur and expectedly, they serve the cuisine of their native areas. Away from its place of origin, this is perhaps as authentic as it can get. The tracts to which these people belong ( as does the form of Buddhism they practise), is treeless, bare, hard and high.
It is a land that does not take kindly to much cultivation and in most places this still yields a solitary annual crop. Fresh vegetables were once rare and the emphasis was on meat and coarse grains like millet and buckwheat. In turn, this has reflected in the cuisine where a meal normally consists of meat, soup and grain.
It is this inner core of Rewalsar whose little restaurants serve the distinctive food that originates along the northern side of the Himalaya mountains. In character, more cafés than restaurants, they sit cheek by jowl to one another and if a particular dish is not available, it is not unusual for the owner to pass the order next door – even as the customer sits on his benches.
In terms of choices, the menu maybe fairly limited. There are noodles served either dry or with gravy. Here, the choice is between vegetarian ones and those with chicken or shredded mutton. Occasionally, pork is also available but it may be a good idea to give that a miss. Thupka ends up being a meal on its own and consists of noodles in a soup with either a broth of meat or with chunks of mutton or chicken. The soup is fairly fiery and to which a distillation of red chillies and garlic is often added. Juliennes of vegetables and finely chopped coriander may become variations.
By and large, this is a food designed to be wholesome and support a hardy people in a demanding terrain. Yet, there are some delicacies too – and Rewalsar’s wayside places do serve good momos. A great snack or a meal-supplement, momos are dumplings stuffed with mutton or chicken and eaten a consommé or with a sauce of red chillies. Both steamed and fried ones are available.
And for whatever its worth, each distinctive form of cuisine has its own stretch of turf at Rewalsar and each co-exists in a strange but delightful fusion. Alu parathas with their smell of frying, rub shoulders with all exotic smells and flavours of the distant trans Himalaya. Go a little further and the tourist bungalow has ‘Chinese, Indian and continental’ on its menu.
By the Drikung Kadyud Gompa, there is butter tea and tsampa (roasted barley flour) available. Walk along the lake’s edge to the Radha Krishna temple and basic sugar-based prasad is given. At the gurudwara, there is kara prashad.
And the best part is that one had quite literally eaten one’s way though all these assorted cultural backgrounds without having given it a second thought.