Nawab Wajid Ali Shah once gave a kathak recital in Metiabruz, on the southwest fringes of Kolkata, where he had recreated his own mini-Lucknow after being exiled from that city. He danced energetically on a muslin sheet, and once the performance was over, he removed the sheet to reveal the impression that his steps had caused on the ground: Krishna playing the flute. The awestruck crowd cheered.
The same crowd, however, had remained silent when, on another occasion, he told them that anyone who had not missed a single day’s fajr (morning namaaz) should step forward and lay the foundation stone for the mosque he was to build in Metiabruz. Finally, the nawab himself did the honours, because it turned out that he was the only one qualified to do so.
These are two stories that, like family recipes, have descended through generations in the family of the Nawab of Awadh. These stories, the family insists, show that he was a devout Muslim and a Krishna-fan at the same time, and also a ruler who loved his people. “People assume he was a debauched ruler who overlooked his duty towards religion and people — that’s a wrong notion,” says Manzilat Fatima, 54, the great-great granddaughter of Wajid Ali Shah and his wife Hazrat Mahal, who, as a foodpreneur, has emerged as the face of the family in Kolkata.
Ms. Fatima cooks and serves Awadhi cuisine — she opened a small eatery, named after herself, on the terrace of her husband’s office in Kasba in 2017 — and the increasing popularity of the restaurant, which displays old photographs and the family tree, has also rekindled the city’s interest in history.
“We knew as children that we belong to a great lineage and that people are in awe of our past. But we also understood why we didn’t have palaces and valuables like other former royal families,” Ms. Fatima says. “My father was a university professor and he had too many mouths to feed. We had inherited values and love for the country from our ancestors, but not wealth.”
Ms. Fatima was born in Kolkata but spent a chunk of her growing up years in Aligarh, where her father, Kaukub Quder, was a Professor of Urdu at the Aligarh Muslim University. She was barely 10 when he started coaching her in billiards and snooker, and in 1980 she became the youngest to play in the nationals, among both male and female participants. After her graduation, she returned to Kolkata and secured a Masters degree in English and then got a degree in law.
“I started cooking very young, in Aligarh, where I was living alone with my father. He told me he would eat whatever I made, and even though my mother (who lived in Kolkata), had taught me some dishes, I would mostly cook dal- chawal, on a kerosene stove,” she recalls.
“Slowly, I started learning more recipes from her during my visits to Kolkata for summer vacations. But I started serious cooking only after I got married. Today, my children joke how different my biryani tastes today compared to what they would have as kids. They say I experimented on them!” she says.
Ms. Fatima lost both her parents recently — her father in September 2020 due to COVID-19, and mother seven months later. One of the last meals the mother had was dal- chawal and galawati kabab prepared by Manzilat, and she told the daughter: “Finally you’ve mastered the kabab.” Due to the back-to-back tragedies, Ms. Fatima herself suffered a mild heart attack. But she’s now back on her feet, busier than ever, as food-loving Kolkata resumes normal life after the pandemic.
“Awadhi cuisine is very delicate, very refined, very aromatic. Each dish has a different aroma and you can smell it from a mile. I was sharing recipes and stories on Facebook when I noticed the response beginning to get overwhelming. That’s how I started Manzilat’s (the terrace restaurant). Today, I am determined to keep authentic Awadhi cuisine alive. I feel very happy, and proud, when people associate me with Awadhi food,” Ms. Fatima says.
