Habits Maketh a Man: Roti Vs Sambhar Sadam

People usually form habits by seeing their parents, relatives, teachers, and friends repeat certain actions. These actions can be anything, combing hair from left to right, wearing striped shirts with striped trousers (uh! fashion disaster), wearing fluorescent colors, using certain words or abuses, using a particular dialect, preferring a cuisine, or using jasmine oil for the hair. Sigh!

There are countless examples I can quote and still would not have covered even an inch. These are normal, ordinary people. They are people on the roads, in buses, in trains, in offices, and in the bus stops. They do everything out of habit. They never stop to think of a newer way to do a certain task or pause to look for a better option.

A to-be-wedded girl in Tamil Nadu would certainly want to buy her trousseau from a certain shop. All these habits are deeply engrained in the psyche of a Tamilian. These habits have slowly become part of the religious rituals. Typically, a to-be-wedded girl always dresses up like a mannequin and does not mind the stares. Now this dressing up translates into this: wearing color-coordinated dresses, accessories, footwear, hair accessories, and flowers. Yes, flowers to match the color of the dress! Now, it does not matter if the girl works in an MNC like Infosys. She will gaily walk into the office in such clothes. Sigh.

A guy in other states would certainly look in the mirror before stepping out in a fluorescent green shirt and reddish maroon trousers. In TN, the same guy would not even bother to check if he is wearing appropriate clothing. He can step out in whatever catches his fancy, and feel and behave like a manmada kunju (king of hearts). Sic.

Now, all this is fine, if the above-mentioned people were living in TN throughout their lives. They could revel in their finery and strut around, without anyone batting an eyelid. Now, when people from other states come to stay in TN, they happen to ogle at our girl and guy. These other people feel the guy and the girl are taking the being-tamilian a bit too far.

How are these fashion disasters created? Certainly, from age-old habits that refuse to die. These people do not even change by looking at other settlers in TN. They often scoff at these outsiders (Tamilians or others). They feel the outsiders have ridiculous habits. For example, a true-blue madrassi would scoff and giggle at a stud-type Panjabi munda devouring Daal-Roti and Alu ki sabzi (which I think is heavenly!). Now, how will this poor madrassi know the pure heavenly bliss that daal chawal or Moong dal ki khichdi can give you.

Obviously, he can only think of "Kichaddi" (Certainly not some type of undergarment rather a dish made of Rava) when he sees such a dish. He would wonder blankly why on earth would a person eat something like Moong dal ki khichdi. Well, everybody who has stayed out of TN will vouch for the fact that Moong dal ki khichdi tastes like heaven. Not our bloke, he will remain wedded to his tamarind-steeped sambar and rasam. 


The outsiders, in turn, scoff heartily at all Tamilians. They feel the Madrassis (as they are called) are totally out of touch with fashion and dress in a very loud manner. And, all they know is rice and imli (tamarind in Hindi).

Especially, when a Tamilian goes to any northern state, he feels like a fish out of water (I call this the Koop Mandook syndrome). Since out of habit, the Tamilian has eaten only n-course meals comprising Sambar sadam, Rasam sadam, Kootu sadam, some other sadam, some meat curry sadam, Tayir sadam, three curries, papad, and oorkai he starves anywhere outside TN.

For example, our guy lands in Chandigarh. After the initial adrenaline rush (caused by heavy-bosomed Sardarnis) dies down, he looks for a place to satiate his hunger pangs. He finds himself in a dhaba.

Now the very friendly sardar gets excited at the prospect of feeding a madrassi, and puts all his energy into doling out yummy Aloo da paranthas (our guy would have mistaken Parantha for Borotta). Our poor madrassi faints at the sight of the parantha. He is yearning and craving for tamarind-flavored Rasam. He silently prays to God and devours the parantha. Normally, a “normal” person would die to eat the heavenly paranthas that the Sardars of Chandigarh dhabas make. However, our guy does not know all this. According to his habit, his stomach recognizes only the varieties of rice and nothing else. The Sardar looks mournfully at the wheatish madrassi, sadly eating his yummy parantha and wonders how the madrassis survive.

Well, they do live, but certainly do not relish or identify other cuisines. They cannot or do not want to break their habits.


Anyday, a Tamilian would kill for sambar sadam and throw out ghee wale paranthas and rajma-chawal (LOL). If the madrassi has to survive anywhere outside TN, he must get his genes (not jeans!) modified, which has been attacked and smothered by tamarind, only then he can even think of traveling to any part of India. This is apart from the hundred other changes he has to make (dress, language, hair oil, pronunciation, etc etc).

Woh subha kabhi toh aayegi...(This is a famous Hindi song.)