Sweetness & light

Madhulika Dash goes beyond the sugariness to understand how these colourful sweets have epitomised the Deepavali spread thanks to the fifty shades of yellow, white, cream and golden brown that they adorn

Rice kheer. pic BY ALKA JENA

Rasguliya.GARAM MASALA

Gud Ka Halwa. GARAM MASALA

Kali jalebi. GARAM MASALA

Lauki Ka Muzaffar is a modern take from Nimisserie Bespoke

Ever wondered why a box of sweets and savouries fills you with instant happiness even before you have had the first bite? They have been baked, turned sugar-free, alternated to so-called healthier choices and have been portioned to lessen the weight and the guilt. And yet, when it comes to Deepavali cheer, nothing, and I mean nothing, comes even an inch close to a traditional Indian platter of sweets and savouries. Basking in the golden hue, the thali, since eons, has been built for happiness — and rightfully so. Just the sight of a tray full of laddoos, ghevar, gulab jamuns, jalebi, barfi, chaklis, khaja, khiri and halwa is enough to fill the mind, soul and heart with a joy akin to a victory. But what is it about the simple sweet and savoury treat-filled thali that has such a magical effect on us? After all, in a world where eating the rainbow seems to be the catchphrase of feeling good, the great Indian Deepavali spread plays on the fifty shades of yellow, white, cream and golden brown.

Good mood, good food

Ever wondered how the Deepavali platter aced the game of good mood and food? An easy explanation for this could be the sugar in sweets. After all, sugar, a calorie-only ingredient, is infamous for not only digesting faster but also spiking dopamine, a neurotransmitter responsible for happiness. An action whose reaction is this sudden feeling of being alive and happier. That, when paired with molecular information, which as per lifestyle specialist Dr Vishakha Shivdasani, “is a function that documents how the body, especially hormones, respond to a particular kind of food choice that becomes the obvious showcase the next time the same food group presents itself.” In this case, it is the tray of sweets, which in spite of the new addition of chocolates, granola bars and such, has remained more or less traditional, and thankfully even today holds the lion’s share in the plate.

The colour scheme

While the sugar aspect is plausible, it is only a tiny fragment of the beautiful gamut. So what’s on play here? To begin with, it’s the colour scheme which starts with a predominant golden or yellow shade and then goes on to have shades of white and cream, then followed by green, red and so on. These hues, especially yellow, which remains a constant theme through all the frills of Deepavali, are perceived to be the colour of warmth, happiness and joy. In fact, in the Indian collective molecular information, the colour yellow of golden hues is often associated with sweets, savouries, and deliciousness. Likewise, the second theme, which is white, is considered to be pure and simple. Green is for freshness and red, although reflects spiciness, is about vibrant sweets for festive occasions.

That tried and tested perception forms the basis of the entire repertoire of sweets that comprise the Deepavali platter over the years. New variations like the halwas, ghevar and khaja-inspired lobongo latika too deliberately followed the colour scheme as it ensured easy acceptability. In fact, in the segment of halwas that along with pethas and parwal ki mithai saw the usage of seasonal vegetables, the final shade was kept to garner the desired response of happiness. And that is the autobiographical response that we have when we see sweets. The colour of the sweet, be it layered as ghevar or comes with a hidden surprise in rasguliya or the versatile Jain community special khara khaja is what drives us to not just the platter with joy but also helps us design the sweet-eat navigation and in doing so our future response to the same thali.

Versatility is thy sweet name

Over the years, collected information eventually comes to play in anticipation, and that autobiographical response (a term that is defined as nostalgia) is the big reason that the traditional Diwali platter has that magical effect on our mood. One of the key factors that lend itself to causing the same response every time is the rituals. Even though Deepavali, unlike its brethren Holi doesn’t have a significant sweet synonym like gujiya, it does score on a few sweets along with a local variety that is made in the region or community everywhere. So while laddoos, halwas, barfis, shakarpara, chaklis, raj kachori, phirni or Gil e firdaus will be part of every region’s thali, there would be local varieties like the Malai Ki Gilori and Bal Mithai (a fudge-like delicacy with sweet balls) in Kumaon, sev ki barfi in the Sindhi community, and the anarsa or adhirasam, which is essentially a crispy doughnut made from a rice-jaggery batter with filling inside that has travelled from the Chola Empire to Kalinga to the court of Dogri kings and the delicious Kashmiri Shufta to name a few. This kind of curation of the Diwali thali made it an extremely versatile platter with an expansive all-palate appeal. Of course, for all the joy to come full circle, the sweets and treats need not just taste good but be good as well.

And that is a field where Indian sweets score the most.

Nourish & satiate

Unlike their Western brethren, traditionally, Indian sweets were made to nourish and satiate, and yet be easy to digest. While that technically meant that most had to be either dipped in chashni or fried using a simple carb ingredient like maida, the composition would be in a way that did more than just give the sugar rush. Hence, the use of lentils, besan, dry fruits, semolina, ghee and lots of khoya.

These made the sweets and the savouries rich and heavy but it was also a necessity during winters when the body demands more food and needs good fat to keep the cheer on. In fact, the need to up the mood and then sustain it during the low-sunlight season is the reason that even regular sweets are cranked up with additional flavours in the form of adding nuts, dried fruit or using sweeter alternatives to add value to a sweet like shakarkandi ki mithai. Eventually, that bullish effect of colour, taste and mood (read: hormones) caused by our sweets is what the brain takes note of, and brings forth every time a tray filled with sweets, or even their aroma wafts by.

(The author is a seasoned food columnist and curator of experiential dining experiences, pop-ups and retreats for chefs.)