Portrait of a Durga devotee.

[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]

These days, her daily pooja has acquired an additional dimension. Every morning, Madhu Mittal sits in front of the household temple in the drawing room’s balcony, and lights camphor in a dried coconut shell filled with laung, batashe, supari, and paan. She prays to Devi Durga Maa, resuming her reading of the Sri Durga Saptashati. Today, she will complete all 13 chapters of the sacred text. For Navratri is ending, and so it being the final day of her “vrat,” or fast. During this period, Madhu has been abstaining from rice, dal and most veggies.

Madhu is not alone. For the nine days of Navratri, many Hindu households in the city observe fast. Meals are reduced to a single evening sitting, certain foods excluded from the dining table. Aloo, shakarkandi, lauki, arbi, and kachha kela become staples. Rotis are of kuttu ka atta, or singhare ka atta. Masalas are limited to kali mirch; table salt is banished.

In Madhu’s apartment in zila Ghaziabad, this routine comes with exceptions. On a recent morning, her granddaughters, too young to fast, are eating a breakfast of parathas in front of the family iPad. The soft-spoken lady lives with her husband, son and his family, and her mother-in-law. For “vrat wali” cooking, she says, the regular iodised salt has been replaced in her kitchen with sendha namak, also known as Lahori namak.

In its raw form, sendha namak is rock salt. Unrefined and crystalline, these are irregular rock-like chunks in pink and white. A street vendor of Lahori namak was once encountered during a sweltering summertime afternoon in Gurugram’s Sector 14. His horse-drawn cart was piled high with the salt rocks. The vendor had said that the salt “comes from Pakistan, and that’s why it’s called Lahori namak,” referring to Lahore. The salt seller was right up to a point. Much of what is marketed as Himalayan pink salt has traditionally been mined in a region now in Pakistan, shaping its colloquial name. Today, this geographical connection creates complications. Last year, Mint newspaper reported that consignments of rock salt from Pakistan were routed into India, via a Gulf state, to bypass restrictions on imports from that country.

That said, India also produces rock salt domestically.

Whatsoever, that afternoon at his cart, the vendor had patiently pointed out varieties of Lahori namak and their uses. Pale pinks for cooking, he had said, while the darker ones for seasoning fruits. Whole rocks of the salt tend to be cheaper, as per him, than the powdered versions.

Madhu buys the powdered form. Graciously acceding to a request, she pours the special “vrat wala” salt onto a plate and poses for a portrait with mother-in-law, the gentle Ram Dulari. After the fast ends, Madhu will be able to again cook and serve karhi chawal, the dish most loved by her family.