A doctor in Kitchen with Bihari dishes

Mohammad Shahzad Ibrahimi, a doctorate holder, is happy tossing eggs and thickening curries for people equally or less capable than him at the JNU canteen, says Sumati Mehrishi

He is unusually garrulous at the gas stove. Incessant talking is not a virtue every immaculate cook can carry off. But Mohammad Shahzad Ibrahimi, a self-appointed dhabawala with a doctorate degree at the Jawahar Lal Nehru University campus, can cut his onions and jibes without peeling his skin. He can bake neat crunchy litthis, the Bihari delicacy, and toss snide political remarks simultaneously without burning his fingers.

At the JNU campus, where the various dhabas, apart from doubling as open food joints and cafes serve another purpose — that of being extended venues for intellectual discussions. Ibrahimi’s is meant for people with an exceptionally huge appetite — for grub and glib conversations. A warm and enterprising chef, he prefers to connect with his customers. And if you allow, “Mamu”, as he is popularly known at the campus, won’t really let you pay for your kachorisand tea until you have munched on a stomach full of jokes. He usually likes thinking aloud. Sometimes, he is unsparing. On certain afternoons, he wouldn’t really wait for you to catch a breath between guffaws, making the bunch of other customers snacking at the beautiful airy space dotted with trees and rocks laugh heart-full over your long awaited leg pulling.

At times, he has his food with a few known customers, complaining to his team of cooks and helps over a raw paapad or a frugal serving of rice without an inch of hesitation.

Mamu, a son of a farmer from Arihari village in Sheikhpura district in Bihar had hopped over to JNU in 1993 after graduating from Patna University. “Charmed by journalism,” he opted for a course in Mass Communication. He says, “The course helped me freelance for radio and television initially. Then during my studies, I worked as a reporter at ETV Hyderabad. The Urdu channel was newly launched and wanted people who were fluent with the language. The JNU Urdu department had a very good reputation. So graduates from here were preferred over others. Yet there were hiccups regarding the right pronunciation of certain words. Seniors at the channel preferred the Hyderabadi way of talking. I had tiffs with people regarding the same and took a transfer to Delhi.”

Today, Mamu has completed six years of managing the canteen — much to the surprise of “outsiders” to the campus — who are usually baffled at Mamu’s choice of profession, and the disappointment of friends and professors at the campus who have unwillingly accepted the fact that a doctorate holder from this prestigious Indian University is happy tossing eggs and thickening curries for people equally or less capable than him. Mamu adds, “In 2002, I completed my doctorate in Urdu. The topic of the thesis was Qazi Abdul Sattar Ke Tariqi Navilon Mein Hero Ka Tassavvur — the importance of Hero in the historical novel of Qazi Abdul Sattar. It was after submitting the thesis that I considered the option of managing a canteen here. I had served as the Sabarmati hostel mess head as a student. Then, during my days in the village in Bihar, I was educated at a Madrasa, where students are usually trained to acquire cooking skills. The experience reallyhelped me.”

Does he feel disturbed or disappointment when people question his choice of profession? “Initially, I would be very bothered with the way people perceived my job. Today, I know that most of them are happy seeing me engrossed in my love for food and cooking. One of my professors, a known recluse had come to meet me here. He patted me on my back and teased me saying that had I become a teacher like him, no one would have really shown interest in me. He laughed. It’s a pleasure to be cooking something delectable. Mere liye yeh dukaan hi sab kuch hai. I am very attached to JNU and the shop. I never really celebrate Eid at home. All my friends come here. It reminds me of the beautiful hostel days when our professors would come and visit us on Eid, observe Rozas with us and participate in mushairas.”

On the day of Muharraham, when Muslims observe mourning and keep home, Mamu can be seen tiding the dhabha kitchen slabs and arranging utensils. During Roza, he neatly arr/anges a table laiden with fruits, juices and sevaiyan.

Snacks and grub are mere excuses to be at Mamu’s. Whether you are an outsider craving for a bowl of sewaiyan in hot milk or a languishing resident hungry for his aloo chokha on a lazy Saturday afternoon, it really doesn’t matter. After just three visits to his dhaba, you may find yourself deciding what to have as per Mamu’s availability on either side of the counter. At times you may find yourself yelling from the serving window,Mamu hain?even before settling down for your first cup of tea for the evening.

An undisputed winner of the chaat sammelan(a competition, an intellectual version of stand up comedy, part of the Holi celebrations at the JNU campus) for a bunch of years, Mamu, the Chaat Samrat (the king) now takes pleasure and honour in judging contestants. The magic of his wit and glorious yesteryears still lingering, Mamu is expected to appear at the sammelan in a king’s attire and a crown on his head. But even on a mundane, serious dhaba day, Mamu is quite a king. He is his own boss. He says, “I am working on a book of recipes of core Bihari delicacies — main course and side dishes. Had I been an illiterate cook, I could have never really managed writing one. My doctorate is not a waste.”