Despite its glass and steel exterior, for the most part, Pune’s down-to-earth-ness and simplicity are retained by its abundant street food culture. Vada paav, pani puri, ragda raav, kutchi daabeli, sev puri, dahi poori, pav bhaji, egg bhurji, chanachur, guddi ke baal and gola,(1) are ubiquitous in the streets, not only co-existing with the McDonalds’ and Pizza Huts, but also winning over them, not only because of the minimal damage they cause to wallets, but also for the experience. “The experience you get from eating at a street stall is something that you can’t imagine in a McDonald’s,” opines Deepali, a student living in Pune and a die-hard street food fan.

The daabeli, the lesser known cousin of the vada paav,(2) is a delicacy originally from Kutch in Gujarat, and is a prominent variety of street food in Pune. “Almost every locality in Pune has its favourite daabeli vendors”, explains Karan, a Puneite. This lip-smacking snack consists of a stuffing of potato, grated coconut and onions, seasoned with a chutney(3) that is made up of chilli, mint and dhania (4), and a tamarind and sugar paste, all stuffed in between two butter toasted bun pieces, served with a handful of roasted peanuts and sev (5). Perceived by many as India’s answer to the American “sub”, the daabeli takes lesser time to assemble and costs a fraction of its American counterpart. For a mere Rs. 5/- or 10 cents, you get a daabeli; add a rupee more, and you get a richer version: a cheese daabeli.

Riyaz is one of the hundreds who makes his living out of selling daabelis. Operating for the past 15 years, he originally hails from Uttar Pradesh. “When I first migrated to Pune, I was involved in another job. Then, my friend encouraged me to set up a daabeli stall, because of the presence of Symbiosis College.” He says, “I started out by making plain daabeli, as I did not know of the masala variety, then.”

Riyaz’s typical day at work starts off at 8 in the morning, when he sets about buying vegetables and other ingredients for the chutneys and the stuffing. “I’m very particular about the quality of the vegetables and ingredients I use. “My wife then helps me actually prepare the stuffing and chutneys.” By noon or so, everything is prepared, and the real selling work starts in the evening, at around 5pm, when Riyaz sets up stall in Gokhale Nagar(6). “This is the ideal time to sell, as there are hordes of college and office goers who are returning back home, and are looking for a quick and inexpensive evening snack,” says Riyaz, who works 365 days a year.

Your average daabeliwaalah is constantly competing with the forces of globalization. Similar to what Jumbo King(7) did to the vada paav waalah on the street, business plans are being hatched to “food chain” the daabeli too. But the daabeliwaalah is well prepared for this kind of competition. His stalls are armed with good quality paper napkins, mineral water, bottled sauces and the like. “I use only mineral water for my ingredients, and also use the same to fulfill thirst needs of my customers.” says Riyaz. Every plate of daabeli is served with a paper napkin. Therefore by ensuring hygiene, taste and “the street experience”, the daabeliwaalah has a sure formula up his sleeve to counter the “big guys”.

There are some daabeliwaalahs who have diversified into other offerings, such as sandwiches and bread rolls . Serving sandwiches and its allied items along with the daabeli, is a smart way to ensure a larger slice of the pie in the consumer market, because it takes roughly the same ingredients as a daabeli to make a sandwich. But, for some, it takes away the exclusivity of a daabeli stall. “ I’m famous among students of the nearby Symbiosis college as the daabeliwaalah; selling sandwiches will not only incur an additional expenditure in buying bread, but will also confuse my customer”, says Riyaz, talking in the same tongue as white-collared vendors who’d refer to this concept as “brand identity”.

Riyaz earns about Rs.200-300 per day, which is just about enough for him, his wife and their baby daughter. Their tiny one-room house also doubles up as his work kitchen. “Most of my earnings get depleted in the rent that I pay for this house, and also for my wife’s medicines”, he says, explaining that his wife is a tuberculosis patient. Fifteen years ago, he made an investment of Rs.10,000 on this business, and today, he is better off , though only marginally, than the 42% of Indians who live under one U.S dollar a day.

Millions of illegal street hawkers and vendors occupy India’s urban landscapes. They have no social security, and virtually no document proving that they’re citizens of India. When asked about the police, Riyaz said, “I treat the policemen to a cup of tea once in a while, it keeps away trouble”.

Does he see himself doing this, say, five years down the line? “It’s not like I want to sell daabelis all my life, given some other job that pays better, I would gladly take it up”, he says, explaining that the grind of being a daabeliwaalah is pretty much like being any other road side vendor.

Playing a harsh game of hide and seek with the police, fending for a family constantly fighting off threats of globalization and handling the ever rising inflation, the daabeliwaalah has his paav (8) quite full. Inspiring, indeed, is the story of this breed of men, for whom livelihood is a struggle in itself.

References:
1. Delicacies that are best enjoyed from food carts on streets in northern and western parts of India
2. The most popular snack in Western India, best enjoyed off the streets in Mumbai, similar to the burger.
3. sauce
4. coriander seeds
5. small dried yellow noodles
6. a locality in Pune
7. a food chain that sells Vada Paav
8. bread

Photo Courtesy: mattlogelin

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