Farmers, warriors and Brahma: THE PURAN IN THE POLIS

Sitting on the 11th floor of a Mumbai highrise, surrounded by glass and steel structures, rural Maharashtra seems like a distant planet. With every Gudi Padwa, however, there is a yearning to return to the roots – an urban-to-the-boot Maharashtrian flirting with the idea of an idyllic life with a mouthful of sweetness. Some say the annual tradition is a throwback to the times when a bountiful harvest rang in the new year and reaffirmed kinship. But, that's just one of the many theories underlying its obscure origins.

Food is the centrepiece of this occasion where memories jive with tastebuds. This year, Puranmal, renowned for authentic vegetarian fare and sweets, has decided to make it special. At its outlets in Vile Parle, Chandivali, Ghatkopar, Mulund and Khopoli, the chefs will dig into Puranmal's four-generation-old recipes to rustle up puran poli with kati aloo ki subzi and the evergreen misal pav. The week-long festival begins on March 25, three days before the new year. As the first batch of mangoes hit the market, they'll also offer aamras, -panna and -shrikhand.

The festive dishes have withstood the test of time. The flavours and ingredients have been consistent in this era of schezwan dosa and pizza parantha. The changes, if at all, are minor. "If someone replaces wheat flour with maida, the kitchen won't come crashing down at the travesty of tradition," says Anagha Desai, a food expert. However, regional influences play a role in not-so-subtle ways. "For instance, in Jalgaon and Khandesh, puran poli can be a foot long. Katachi aamti, eaten with puris, will be spicier in Vidarbha in keeping with the district's fiery enchantment," adds Desai.

The kairichi dal serves as a side dish in the Gudi Padwa platter. "It is more of a salad than a dal and a delicacy at haldi-kumkum ceremonies that women host in this month. It is made of grated, tart raw mangoes; coarsely crushed, soaked (not cooked)-chana dal; lots of coconut and a liberal tempering of Maharashtrian style curd chillies," says food writer and consultant Saee Koranne-Khandekar. Her family makes shrikhand from scratch, solely for the occasion. A good Maharashtrian shrik-hand, she feels, should be thick, grainy and not too sweet, to be mopped up with hot puris. "The whole meal is designed to cool the body using local, seasonal ingredients; the day begins on a bitter note with some serious chomping of neem leaves. The morning ritual is a sort of detox – for physical and spiritual cleansing," says Koranne-Khandekar.

According to one school of thought, Gudi Padwa marks the beginning of the Shalivahan calendar that came into force to commemorate the victory of emperor Shalivahana in AD 78. Yet, its religious significance is hard to miss. "According to mythology, Brahma created the human race on this day, and so, in ancient and medieval ages, it was imperative to feed the Brahmins," says journalist and theatre critic Shanta Gokhale. "On this day, one should listen to the recitation of the almanac (Panchanga Shravana) in belief that it will usher in a health and prosperity," Gokhale adds. Perhaps, its most visible symbol in Maharashtrian households is the gudi (a wooden stick wrapped in silk, topped by a brass or silver kalash) surrounded by flowers and leaves. "Back then, it was a way of welcoming victorious soldiers," says Gokhale.

March 28 marks the unravelling of 1939th year in the lunisolar calendar of a state where farmers can heave a sigh of relief after a three-year drought.

Here's to new beginnings!