Saoji

Welcome to Saoji Bhojanalayas - the innumerable places dotting Nagpur offering the spiciest varieties of non vegetarian food.

A typical Saoji Bhojnalaya is kind of spooky. It is dim. It is dark. It is not just an eatery. It is a cult. You have to feel about it from within.Enter and you’ll figure out that all rules – written, heard or experienced- of the food industry are tattered down to nothing. The first person you’d encounter in SB will be an accountant. He’ll have photos of all the major gods, stocks of cigarettes, tobacco/gutkha pudyaa (pouches). Nobody would ask you the obvious Gabbar like question asked elsewhere in the world – “Kitne aadmi hai?” You are supposed to be sane enough to find a place for yourself. You can even end up being the sixth person on a table of six already occupied by five. One of the only two waiters serving a crowd of about forty odd people will arrive next to you and expect you to order. He won’t give you a menu card. There won’t be a rate board either. Remember, if you are there, you are supposed to be wise. There isn’t much to choose from. You had the choice before entering the place. Not anymore. There are three to four varieties – chicken, mutton, keema, kaleji and two subvarieties – dry and rassa (gravely called gravy).

It is so dark that every dish coming out of that stained curtain appears to be for you. You order and – no you don’t have to wait – he brings it to you fataafat! He bangs them in front of a group and you hear them shout any of the following:
“Haaa… Isko bolte saoji!”
“Ek number re baawa!”
“Aisa!”
This is followed by hesitation and a courteous invitation to co-eaters – “Lo jamao”.

The series of pointless talking is taken over by shameless eating followed by endless sweating. The custom is as inexplicable as your presence in the place.

If you are a first timer – a sincere advice is to venture out alone.
If you hate yourself and want to explore feelings like remorse and shame then plead a group of experts to let you join them and they’ll be happy to oblige. In a group of experts, first timers are inevitably laughed at their lack of preparation. If you are without a handkerchief, you try to get over the dragon-like-fire in your mouth by doing everything humane. You shift in your seat, eat papad, eat only roti, squeeze lemon in your mouth, eat onion and drink lots of water. The water seems to be finishing every minute and you feel like tearing off your clothes and screaming. Through your teary ears, you see yourself running out of options and gaalis and you too feel like running out of the damned place. The teary eyes and sweaty body gives you the feeling of a sprinkler.

Amidst difficult to explain breathing routine (issssss haaa issssss haaaaaaaa), you join others in laughing at yourself – swearing within twice – first swearing at the food and your friends and then swearing never to come at that place ever again.

“Rassa?” the waiter arrives with a mug of absolutely free gravy and asks the group. The devilish round of laughter comes back and it’s your plate everyone wants that mug to be poured in.
“Isko do,” you hear one of them say amidst muffled laughter.
The last bit you ate 5 minutes ago was so spicy that you can’t manage to utter a no. So you put your hand over the plate to avoid the serving. And the waiter showcases his hidden courtesy.
“Lo na saab,” he teasingly orders and you think it is death that he is offering through that gravy.
“Nahi chaahiye bol diya na!” you spit fire and friends howl at you – “Khaana nahi hota to uspe kyu gussa nikaalta hai?”

Anyways, it is not as bad as I have made it to be.

I have heard that connoisseurs gulp down two plates of rassa for soup before starting main course. Saoji food seemingly has priceless medicinal worth. It improves your digestive system and gets rid of cold. But asking for vegetarian food at SB is like entering a Mercedes showroom and asking for a loose tyre for your child to run around with on the streets.

What is it that draws a Nagpurian to any of these places dotting the city? This is one of the many questions which are neither asked nor answered. Who is this Saoji? Who started this madness? Is it a brand? Is it a chain of restaurants? There are no answers.

But there is something about Saoji.
Make the leads of Ghajini (Hindi and Tamil) and Memento eat Saoji together and I guarantee that even with their "What is wrong with me/what did I just think?" mishap they will not forget the taste for the next two to three days. Also their superb muscles will be put to some fruitful use, especially in the mornings!