When you slip a spoonful of Malaiyo into your mouth, the froth of stiffly churned milk meets the cold dew of a winter’s night on the tip of your tongue. Malaiyo is a winter dessert of Varanasi, available only on the cold misty mornings of this season. As a dessert, it checks many boxes- it's light, sweet and fragrant. It comes in a small earthen pot with the mouth the size of your palm and depth that of a thimble. It’s gone before you know it, but it’s heavy flavours linger long after you have swallowed the last fluffy spoonful. But... for any self respecting idea or dish there are always buts. Before the buts, a little about how Malaiyo is made. There’s something magical about the process when a local explains it to you You boil the milk in the Kadhai for sometime. How long? You will know when it’s done. Then? Then we leave it out under the cold sky through the night. Just like that, in the open? Of course not. We cover it with a fine mesh
History, mythology, epic, poetry, drama, folklore and legend flow and merge into this ancient city and its scared river. The city is bent over by the weight of spiritualism that these many rivulets carry into this old, historic city. And that is what I came to find in Varanasi/ Banaras/Kasi. That with peace, learning, enlightenment, benediction, redemption, salvation, liberation. More big words, more burden. Any city approached against this reputation will suffer. In this Varanasi doesn’t’ disappoint. Among the noisy roads, the clamouring streets, hungry mouths, greedy touts, priests who like any good business men speak in your own tongue, telling you the stories you want to hear and just as swiftly turn into an Avenging Angel of Moral Justice when they feel they are under-paid, there is no space here for spirituality, unless you are happy with a bottled, erstaz version, for a price naturally. The River is majestic. The Banaras/ Varanasi/ Kasi of lea