Basmati: One Grain To Rule Them All

IN MID-APRIL, the start of the sowing season is celebrated through the medium of spring festivals in various parts of India. If Punjab has Baisakhi and Bengal has Poila Boishakh, then Assam has Rongali Bihu and Kerala, Vishu. In all of these festivals, rice plays a very important role — not merely in the foods served on the day, but also in the rituals conducted to mark the occasion. In Punjab, for instance, Baisakhi would be incomplete without meethey chawal, while Bengalis swear by their panta bhat. Similarly, in Kerala, kanji is popular on Vishu, as pithe are in Assam on Rongila Bihu. 

This is only the surface; ditch the husk and you’ll find even more rice-based dishes for the festivities, from payesh to payasam. Indigenous rice varieties take centrestage on this occasion: Gobindobhog or other short-grained rice in Bengal, Matta in Kerala, Bora Saul in Assam. However, you’d be hard-pressed not to find a dish or two that also makes use of the ubiquitous Basmati.  

With such store set by the grain, it is hardly surprising that it echoes in the folk tales and lore of rice-growing regions. Mentions of Basmati in the folklore from Uttarakhand, Himachal Pradesh, Punjab and Bihar usually indicates a manifestation of good luck and prosperity. Its history too is intriguing; while the Basmati’s exact origins are difficult to pinpoint, experts say that its status owes much to royal families. 

Kings grew to covet the grain and controlled its production: Bara (Peshawari Basmati) was grown at the Bara fortress in Peshawar under such tight scrutiny that if a common man were to take away even one grain, it was treated as a punishable offence. The King of Tehri (Uttarakhand) exerted similar influence over the growing of Tapovan Basmati. The Tapovan crop was entirely reserved for the consumption of the royal family alone. The Nawab of Hyderabad was fond of Basmati too; the Amritsari Basmati was developed in Hyderabad State by his decree. When Yar Mohammad Khan wanted to placate Maharaja Ranjit Singh in 1822, the gifts he sent included — no prizes for guessing — rice. 

Much before Khan, rice diplomacy was observed by the emperor Humayun as well, who ensured that visiting dignitaries at his banquets were served the best quality Basmati. William of Widford, deputed on Royal Mission to India in 1528, was among the foreigners who had the good fortune to sample one of these feasts, of which he writes: “Dish after dish came on the table, rich biryanis were followed by fragrant pilaos, followed by roasted meat and fried fish served with heaps of perfumed long grained basmati rice’. Widford also recorded a conversation he had with Humayun’s brother Kamran, where they discussed the types of rice — Punjab’s Basmati, and long-grain Patliputra from the Yamuna-Ganga alluvial doabs — and which one was better. And when Akbar attacked Kangra in 1556, he was informed by his advisors about the region’s best attributes that made it a worthwhile conquest: the strength of the fort, the efficacy of its doctors’ eye treatments and nose surgeries (!), and its Basmati.