Cilla Khatry

At Chawri Bazaar in Old Delhi, where a modern metro entrance pushes out of the ground into the chaos above, people throng outside a small, nondescript shop from noon till midnight almost every day of the week. The man behind the counter speaks in Hindi that, by his own admittance, only he can understand and frequently breaks into a song most Nepalis will have heard the tune to but have long forgotten the words.

Madhav Thapa, 20, originally from Nawalparasi, left home in search of work eight months ago. He landed up in Delhi where his brother was living and came up with the idea of selling momos at Chandni Chowk. He had worked as a cook for three years at a hotel back home and could whip up momos easily.

Bhuwan Thapa, 26, who was earlier working as a guard in a sari shop in Karol Bagh, saw the scope of this venture and it didn’t take long for him to be convinced by the idea. Together, the brothers pooled their meager resources and started a momo stall.

“We collectively make at least IRs 6,000–7,000 daily and that’s more than enough for us,” says Bhuwan who now manages to send money back home regularly besides saving some for himself. “We’re inundated with people lining up non-stop. A lot of Nepalis tell us that they’re reminded of home by our momos while Indians seem to relish this Nepali delicacy,” adds Madhav.

Nepal, it seems, will somehow always be known for two things in India, especially in Delhi: Mount Everest and Momos. Although momos originated in Tibet (influenced by Chinese dumplings) where they were traditionally filled with yak meat, Nepalis have developed and embraced a variety of momo fillings: chicken, mutton, buff, pork, egg, vegetables et al.

You can have it for breakfast, lunch or dinner and at times even for all three meals and still crave for another plateful. There’s something you can’t really pinpoint what that makes everybody fall in love with this dish. Momos seem to be everybody’s favorite in Delhi. Just the way it is here in Nepal.

“I have it for breakfast on my way to work and then I get another plateful on my way back home. I can never have enough,” says Nitika Arora, 26, a litigation lawyer, as she savors a plateful of hot steaming momos on an early Monday morning at a stall in front of PVR Priya at Vasant Vihar. It’s half past nine and already the temperature reads 29 degrees Celsius. Delhi will get hotter by the hour but the momo stall, ironic as it may seem, will get even busier.

Momo were always popular in Nepal but surprisingly it’s also evolved as a popular street food in Delhi in recent years. Apart from the conventional steamed momos, deep fried momos, kothay momo (half fried, half steamed), chilli momos and open momos are also available. A myriad variety of momos are available to cater to the taste of every individual. From mild to spicy and with fillings of your choice, the possibilities are endless.

“My family has been coming to Vasant Vihar all the way from Green Park just for the momos for almost two years now,” says Satish Agrawal, 32, a businessman, whose wife and two children feast on chicken momos as he speaks. “We had tasted momos when we were in Kathmandu a few years back. Ever since then, we’ve been hooked on it,” he says, adding that the ones at Vasant Vihar taste very much like the momos they had in Kathmandu did.

From a handful of eating places that serve scrumptious momos nestled in nooks and crannies in the sprawling mass of Old Delhi with its hidden mosques, giant gates and crumbling mansions to tiny stalls pushed up against and in between large shops and buildings in the always abuzz New Delhi, momo eateries are sprouting everywhere in the Indian Capital.

The Chanakya Puri shopping complex has 12-15 small eateries that cater momos from early in the morning till late at night. One can also find at least 10-12 street vendors in every shopping area of the city doing brisk sales, especially during the evening hours. There are an equal number of, if not more, street vendors in front of colleges and universities doing good business selling steamed vegetable and chicken momos.

What is interesting to note, however, is the fact that most momo stalls in Delhi are either run entirely by Nepalis or the owners have employed Nepali cooks especially to make momos.

Nitesh Shah, 29, originally from Bharatpur in Nepal, leaves the two bedroom apartment he shares with four others in Munirka in New Delhi at nine in the morning and takes the bus to the outskirts of the city where he works till 11 at night selling momos from a tiny roadside stall that he manages alone.

Binod Thapa, 22, who is from Gulmi, Nepal, has also been working at a local eatery that specializes in momos besides noodles, soups and katti rolls in Vasant Vihar.

Both Nitesh and Binod came to Delhi in search of better work opportunities, and as they still struggle to attain the lifestyle they crave for, making and selling momos seem to be the easiest solution at hand to earn good daily wages.

“Our stall sells momos worth IRs. 8,000 on a daily basis and we’re open throughout the week,” says Binod who used to work in various hotels in Delhi till six years back when he decided to join the eatery at Vasant Vihar run by a Muslim businessman.

“There were a lot of Nepalis working here earlier but all of them have left now and I’m the only one at the moment. It was through one of them that I came to know about this place,” adds Binod.

Irshad, Binod’s co-worker, has seen five Nepalis come and go during the three years he’s been working with Binod. The eatery is 35 years old and perhaps the oldest one to sell momos in New Delhi.

Nepal and India share open borders as per the agreements of a bilateral treaty signed back in 1950. According to this treaty, Nepalis and Indians can travel and work across the borders and are to be treated at par as mutually respective native citizens. Rural Nepalis, who have for long been suffering from poverty and unemployment, have been migrating to India in thousands every year.

Different studies have estimated the number of Nepalis in India to be between one and 1.6 million. Majority of Nepalis living in Delhi come from the poorest parts of Nepal and take up some of the least paid works that are easily available and don’t require any qualifications or experience. For instance, according to a study, there are around 25,000 Nepalis who work as gatekeepers in Delhi.

Nitesh and Binod, like the Thapa brothers, do not fit the stereotype of Nepali workers in India, who are usually security personnel, waiters or farmhands. They have opted to make a living doing what they know best instead of having to work under someone else.

These momowallahs, as they are referred to in Delhi, happily dish out plates after plates of momos day after day and seem to be quite content with it. The fact that they are earning their living as well as not working long hours for jobs that pay very less seems to have a calming effect on their otherwise chaotic life.

“I don’t mind working this hard since the money is good and people stop by, sometimes even making a detour, to have the momos we serve,” says Madhav.

Kumar Rai, 28, originally from Dharan, shares the same sentiments. He has been running a small and modest momo stall at Karol Bagh for the past four years. He sells vegetable, paneer and chicken momos that he makes in bulk at home, starting early as four in the morning and hauls to work on the Metro.

“A lot of people used to eye me suspiciously when I used to commute carrying large bags on the Metro. But by now, they see me daily and are familiar with what I do, so there’s no staring as such and even if some look at me and stifle a laugh, I’m okay with it,” says Kumar, saying that as long as he is earning a decent living, nothing can stigmatize him.

And with a daily earning of above 5,000 Indian Rupees with an investment of just 2,000, Kumar is one happy man, just like everyone of the Nepali momowallahs you’ll invariably end up seeing in Delhi, no matter which part of the city you are in.

“Every stall run by Nepalis sells momos that taste the same, yet are subtly different. The Indians can forever keep wondering about the “secret ingredient” we use when in reality it’s just that Nepalis know how perfect momos are made,” comments Binod with a sly smile, leaving one wondering if in fact there is a “secret ingredient.”

Published on: 12 April 2013 | Republica