A confluence of culture and cuisine

“Allow the noble pull through us,” says the subgenus pastor in a sing-song sound in Tamil. I stand amidst the devout at St. Mary’s Basilica in Shivaji Nagar. We are gathered here to celebrate Mother Mary’s birthday on September 8th. There is a Novena, or nine-day celebration run up to the event, all culminating in a grand “theru” or chariot procession that has an idol of Mother Mary dressed in a grand silk saree and bedecked with flowers. There is a band and a drum set that leads the procession, followed by devotees carrying candles some of whom threw salt and pepper at the goddess Hindu-style. But meanwhile, here we are, the pious, praying to Her for grace and protection.My cook, Geetha is one of them, dressed in a traditional “kaavi” or orange dress, like hundreds of others who have made a vow or promise that they will come and see Mary on these nine days if a good thing happens, be it recovery from illness, debt or misfortune. “Seventy five percent of the devotees here are Hindus,” asserts Geetha. “Only 25 percent are Christian.” I have no way of verifying this. Many of the women are dressed with bindis, wearing flowers, turmeric and other Hindu adornments. The service is calm and peaceful and occurs in multiple languages throughout the day.This area in the heart of Shivaji Nagar is a confluence of food and faith with a few anchors. There is St. Mary’s Church of course, with its white spires, Russell Market with its vendors of fruits, vegetables, meat and fish, and a “Nala” which runs like a spine through it all. The word Nala means both a mythological character and the name of a water channel in Kannada. If you follow Nala Road in Shivaji Nagar, you will see both a fork and a confluence. On the right are the largely Christian and Muslim neighbourhoods of Armstrong and Seppings Road. On the left are the Hindu areas of Dharmaraja Kovil street. But it isn’t as clean a separation, which is how it is and should be in India. The last week of August, for example, is a terrific time to see this confluence in all its glory. Every street has a giant Ganesha, edited to suit the ethos of the funders and devotees. One Ganesha wields a gun, another holds many weapons and looks like a fierce goddess Kali, a third is beatific and green. Lorries carrying music speakers and sound equipment stand nearby to play music for the processions that are a prelude to the visarjan or holy dip of these idols in Ulsoor Lake.Alongside this riot of Ganesha are the devotees of Mother Mary who throng the church morning to night. In between are the bearded men in motorbikes carrying meat and fish for the homes in the neighbourhood. Pretty much every day during this season is a feast, most often a mixed rice pulav made in a giant vat. Everybody in the neighbourhood partakes of the delicacies. This is called the “Ooru Habba” or “Village Festival” and such celebrations are part of the history of Bangalore.It is hard to go hungry during these nine days. Usually, there is a family sitting outside the church, ladling out different types of food. Some offer biscuits, some hand out sweets, some bring rice dishes or chitra-anna, famous in Karnataka, and those who can afford it dole out chicken biriyani, all in the name of the goddess or Mother Mary. Feeding the public is also part of the old ethos of Shivajinagar, with businessmen from the Setty community taking charge of mass feeding on specific days, mixing money with mercy as it were. It is perhaps the only time when the famous (and old) BN Sambaiah Setty Tiffin Room with its signature bread pulav and vada curry has fewer customers, filled up as they are with the free delicacies available nearby. As for me, I go to St. Mary’s church to feel the devotion, soak up the atmosphere and enjoy the kadak chai at one of the many tea shops lining the square. On occasion, I walk over to the traditional khova shops on a side street near Russell Market to buy fresh butter and then stop at one of the Iyengar bakeries in the area for sliced bread. The atmosphere is communal, festive and exuberant, all of which turn the chore of buying vegetables for lunch into an act of joy.(Shoba Narayan is Bengaluru-based award-winning author. She is also a freelance contributor who writes about art, food, fashion and travel for a number of publications.)