A woman buying a paan. Picture by S.H. Patgiri

Irene Pariat (24) is a well-coiffeured travel executive who spends a fortune on clothes and make-up. However, for all her snazzy dress and demeanour, Irene refuses to part with her native paan-eating culture. She enjoys her kwai (raw betelnut) and paan (betel leaf) as many as eight times a day. Her lips may be lined red with lipstick and lime, but Irene feels that her kwai gives her a feel-good feeling. Just as tea and coffee are an excuse to break ice, Irene vouches that kwai is a great way to bond, at least among Khasis.

Ask veteran educationist and social worker, Rani Shullai, why she chews kwai-paan and pat comes the reply, “I have been eating kwai right since my childhood.” One piece of kwai, argues Shullai, is as potent as a peg of whisky. While her own system has become immune to kwai, Shullai warns that first-timers may feel dizzy. The trick is to keep spitting out the kwai little by little so that the kick is alleviated.

Michael Lyngdoh, an inveterate paan-eater, avers, “The kwai can make one hot with a slight buzz in the head.” Given the amount of kwai eaten with great gusto, both the kwai seller and possibly the dentist are raking in the moolah. Take the case of Eva Dengdoh who has switched from selling cowdung cakes to kwai-paan, which assures her a daily income of Rs 80. She takes pains to select the mitha patta from the fields since the local bazaar offers a mixed variety.

Even as paan is eaten with varying condiments in different parts of the country, in Meghalaya it is eaten simply with kwai and more recently with tobacco. According to A.K. Nongkynrih, reader of sociology at North Eastern Hills University, “Kwai is intrinsic to the Khasi food habit. Its wide availability makes it easy to pamper the palate. Among Khasis, kwai is not a mere addiction but a vital communication tool both in marriages and funerals.”

Nongkynrih’s colleague, M.N. Karna, believes that kwai-paan is linked to the Khasi identity. As he explains, “Just as water is offered to guests in central India, Khasis prefer to offer kwai-paan as a symbol of hospitality. Its health hazards notwithstanding, kwai-paan is considered a token of friendship. In fact, it is hard to find a Khasi lady who doesn’t carry kwai-paan in her vanity bag just as she might carry her comb and pocket mirror.”

Paan is often de rigueur in Assamese society where the betelnut — also called tambul — is soaked and fermented underground. While the word paan derives from the Sanskrit parna, which means leaf, the ancient language also refers to the leaf as tambula, which is considered a symbol of civilisation. During worship or rituals, leaves from some select trees are used as essential accessories and in that the betel leaf enjoys pride of place. According to the Hindu ancient text, Skanda Purana, the betel leaf was obtained during the ocean churning by the gods. No wonder, this ubiquitous leaf finds mention in the great epics, the Ramayan and the Mahabharat, as well as in Buddhist and Jain literature.

In paan lore, the tip of the leaf is never eaten because that is where the life force resides. Nor for that matter is the base, where the stem joins the leaf, consumed because that is the seat of fame. And the central vein is removed because that is where Hindu goddess Lakshmi — hence fortune — dwells. For the aficionado, the wrapping has always been more important than the filling. Just as the method of preparation varies from region to region, so does the paan variety. The delicately flavoured paan from Bengal is known as Desi Mahoba, while Maghai and Jagannath are the main paans of Benaras. In Benaras, paan is not just a mouth freshener but an art by itself. Paan prepared from small and fragile leaves from South India is known as Chigrlayele. The thicker black paan leaves — the ambadi and kariyele — are more popular and are chewed with tobacco.

The leaf is known to be endowed with invigorating and energising properties. It is a killer of germs and bacteria and an eliminator of common cold. Before eating a paan, the stalk has to be cut, the edges have to be trimmed and the veins scrapped for fear of brain damage. There are white and black betel leaves. The black variety is believed to cause constipation and the white one eliminates cold and acts as a digestive. Just as paan is chewed with lime, so are coca leaves chewed with slacked lime in South America as a means of releasing cocaine, the alkaloid stimulant.

A small content of a volatile oil, called betel oil, in the leaf creates the desired spicy, aromatic and fresh taste in the mouth. The oils contained in the betel leaf support the stimulating effect of the other ingredients. Of these, catechu, the reddish solution of the heart-wood of the tree acacia catechu wild, locally known as katha, might be the most popular. Its astringent and disinfecting qualities cause contraction of the gums and hence preserve and cleanse the mouth and teeth. This liquid causes redness of the mouth and saliva while chewing the betel leaf.

“Undoubtedly, no Indian meal is complete without paan,” says 70-year-old Sarayu Dutta, snipping areca nuts with a nutcracker and then stuffing the paan with fragrant cardamom, cloves and aniseed before folding it into a neat triangle and piercing a clove through the folds to hold it in place. Preparing paan at home may be outdated and considered a time-consuming process today but eating paan is still essential to our culture, as several paan shops across the length and breadth of the country serving speciality paans, some wrapped in silver and gold foils, will testify. In Mumbai, one may come across Kalluram Dubeyji who has gone to Belgium a record 42 times to roll his special paans.

The dark green leaf smeared with a dash of lime and wrapped around a combination of spices including crushed betelnuts, cardamom, aniseed, sugar and grated coconut can be the perfect means to enliven a soiree or bridge a friendship. No wonder, connoisseurs have been chewing on their paan and enjoying every moment of it.