The Misal Man of Gandhi Chowk

Nagpur: When Munnilal‘Munniya’Sahu began selling misal, Jawaharlal Nehru was the Prime Minister, gold rates were Rs98 for 10 grams and Sadar’s Gandhi Chowk, where Munniya runs his cart, had yet to get street lights. Oh, and his misal sold for an anna a plate!
Much has changed in the last 65 years. Except, swear Munniya’s legions of fans, his savoury street snack.
Poha, murmura, crispy chana, peanuts, sev, boiled potato, boiled jowar (who would have thought?), onion, green chilli, coriander, raw mango or lemon and various seasonings and spices go into Munniya’s misal. It’s not even close to the Maharashtrian misal of misal pav fame. Yet, it is utterly moreish. So good, in fact, that there’s a steady stream of people from the time he sets up his cart at 6pm until he winds up around 11pm. He says he is 80 or 85 years old now, but his jet black hair, alert mind and ramrod frame insist otherwise.
“I came to Nagpur from Allahabad with my maternal aunt’s son when I was 13 or 14. He used to run a snacks cart but I am the one who got popular,” he says without a trace of irony, adding that Nagpurians who live in ‘Dubai and America’ tell him they still crave his misal.
That’s probably because there’s something strangely intimate about the way he goes about putting the misal together. Each person has a special preference, an extra green chilli here or a ‘skip the peanuts’ there. Munniya does it faithfully. Then, the person gets a fistful of the misal for approval or further adjustments. The fully customized, relatively healthy snack is now ready, its contents much more interesting than those of the newspaper squares it is served on.
The misal’s appeal is universal. Naved Siddiqui grew up eating the mouth-watering delicacy and his children now love it. “From humble rickshaw-wallahs to doctors, from school kids to housewives and dada-dadi generation people, everyone likes his recipe,” he says.
At Gandhi Chowk, Munniya has been as steady a presence as the Gandhi statue that presides over the knot of narrow bylanes. He knows several families that have been living here, and eating his misal, since generations. He remembers how a certain Mr Patel likes his misal with a lot of crispy chanas and how a Mr Kanojiya prefers it a bit spicier than usual.
He also remembers his boyhood back in Allahabad. “When Nehru was contesting the election from Phulpur near Allahabad, I remember running with a flag in my hand in his support at a rally,” he says, nostalgia halting his gnarled hands ever so slightly. He even recalls that a Congress session had taken place in the city ‘many years ago’ (it was the one in 1959) and that he had taken his cart all the way to Subhash Road, near the venue, for all the three days.
Nehru did attend the session, proposing a resolution for introduction of cooperatives in agriculture. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to taste Munniya’s misal.