A paan box in silver.
Pic courtesy: Met Museum
From the green leaves spread on countertops and streaks of red juice on public walls and roads to popular Bollywood melodies like ‘Khaike Paan Benares Wala’, the paan is hard to miss. As the paanwallah expertly trims a fresh betel leaf and applies slaked lime and katha (a distinctive red herb catechu), a variety of stuffings are displayed for the patron — ranging from more traditional betel nut shavings, fennel seeds and gulkand (a sweet jam-like rose petal paste) to unorthodox innovations such as chocolate, cherries and mint. The leaf is filled with the customers’ ingredients of choice and folded into a neat triangle; in one hearty bite, its astringent and vegetal flavour gives way to an earthy lime taste, and the delicate fragrances of gulkand and fennel erupt to create a perfect awakening of the senses, leaving behind a refreshing aftertaste.
Paan has been integral to medicine and entertainment in South Asia for millennia. The ancient Sanskrit text on medicine, Sushruta Samhita, prescribes paan for digestion. The erotic text, Kamasutra, names paan as an aphrodisiac and includes it in the 16 rituals of adornment for women, or solah shringar. Lovers feeding each other paan is a common literary and artistic trope found not only in puranic stories of Hindu deities but also in miniature paintings depicting early modern Mughal and Rajput courts.
For instance, illustrations in the 16th-century manuscript, Tutinama, made in Akbar’s atelier, show bowls of paan and flasks of wine laid out in front of the protagonist Khujasta, so that she can freshen her breath and meet her lover in exhilaration. Similarly, in Nimatnama, a 15th-century Deccani manuscript on the culinary arts, the sultan of Mandu kneels in his night clothes, poised to take an eager bite from a golden bowl full of paan.
In the 19th century, paan was a cultural currency across northern India, to be found everywhere — not only in Kalighat patachitras and the colourful lives of Awadhi courtesans but also in marriage ceremonies and funerary rites, particularly in Bengal and Assam. K T Achaya, in A Historical Dictionary of Indian Food (1998), writes that different parts of the paan represent different Hindu deities: Lakshmi presides at the front, Shiva at the periphery, and Yama — the God of death — in the stalk, which is to be pinched and thrown away before consumption.
Formerly associated with leisure, hospitality and protocol in royal courts, paans were placed in delicately gilded boxes (paan daan) which were also offered as nazrana (tributes). These ornate containers, once bedecked with jewels and hand-carved with reclining ladies and equestrian scenes, have now given way to modern branding on tin cases of paan masala, enticing clientele with the aesthetics of success and influence. The 21st-century repackaging notwithstanding, it is the streetside paanwallah who actually keeps this timeless practice of sensory indulgence alive when he crafts each paan as a bespoke item for the customer.
Discover Indian Art is a monthly column that delves into fascinating stories on art from across the sub-continent, curated by the editors of the MAP Academy. Find them on Instagram as @map_academy