On the Elaborate Indulgence of Dawoodi Bohra Thals

Hashim: We celebrated the Bohra New Year Eve in customary fashion yesterday [25 June]. Whilst eating together from a Thal was common in our childhood, nowadays it’s rare, mostly seen at weddings, religious festivities, and community dining events (which are strictly segregated according to sex). A regular-sized Thal (with a diameter of around three feet), can seat eight to nine people together, whilst those at home can be smaller in size, depending on the members sitting down for a meal. 

The Navu Varas Thal is always an elaborate affair. It’s so heavy that it can’t be loaded in the kitchen, and is usually put together on the Safra itself. Earlier we’d be excited to see whether we could better the count of the previous year, but nowadays we are just happy to have the family dining together on these special occasions, and the fact that our knees still have enough strength in them to sit on the floor. 

As a community, we are known for our love for food. As the saying goes: “Be kharaas, be mithaas, pakku bypass”, which translates to: Alternating two savouries and two sweets is a surefire recipe for a bypass. 

We start and end the meal with a pinch of salt: Bismillah at the beginning, and Shukranlilah at the conclusion. The Navu Varas Thal is special because it contains a variety of fruits. It is also considered the Thal’s birthday, so besides food, there is a coconut, a silver coin, and paan kept on it. 

Each region (Surti, Nagri, Kapadwanji) has its own food fetishes, some of which are sacrosanct.  In our house, for example, if it’s Monday you can be sure that there will be Masoor. Similarly, the Navu Varas Thal may vary according to peculiarities passed down through the generations, each adding their unique touch. In our Thal there is the Kapadwanji Khajla Barfi, besides traditional sweets like Lachko, Malido, Ravo, and Thuli. We have the Patti Samosas—the mutton and dal variety, and sweet ones as well, much like the stuffing in Karanjis. 

Whilst most Bohra households go with the signature DCP (Dal Chawal Palidu), we are partial to our Chana Dal Pulao and Manda with Gosht ki Tarkari. There are Seekh Kebabs and Tikkas, and Pattice and Cutlets for the meat-lovers. And something that I think is unique to a small section of the Bohra community: live fish. This fish—which is halal—is caught alive, after which the Kalma is recited over it, before it is carved and cooked in our fashion. 

By the time we are done, an hour has passed by without us realising it. Though the Thal is lighter, we are weighed down, and it requires considerable effort to lift ourselves up. This year, members of our family are spread over three continents, celebrating according to their time zones—in  New York, London, and Mumbai. So it was a triple treat—an indulgence before deprivation. Because in a few days we will begin a period of mourning for Imam Husain, the Prophet’s grandson, who was martyred in Karbala on Ashura (the tenth day of the month of Muharram).