Glassful of Emotions: Mohabbat ka Sharbat, or Sharbat-i-Mohabbat

 I do not quite remember where and when I first came across this wonderful beverage in Delhi. I think a professor of mine had shared a Whatsapp story, offering a treat with a glassful of Sharbat-i-Mohabbat. But minutes later, she had to delete that story, flooded as she was with hundreds of eager responses. It's actually quite an unresistable thing. And it's very difficult to shie away from not having an extra glass of this heavenly beverage. But back then, I just knew it's name. I hadn't tasted it yet.

I had to wait for almost another year. Summer came to Delhi. Not the terribly dry, grizzly heat of May-June, but the more humid summer, interspersed with showers, that comes in August and September. That was a day in August, and I was with my friend in Chandni-Chowk. The last time when I had ventured into Chandni-Chowk, I had almost lost my way in Sadr Bazar. I remember walking through Gubbare-walein gali and almost realizing that this is the end of the world! I am never going to go back to St Stephen’s College campus! Ugghhh!

Anyway, coming back to this eventful day in August when I came back to Chandni-Chowk. We were taking a walk from the Qila-i-Mubarak (that's Red Fort, guys!) to the Jama Masjid. We were looking for a place to have lunch, though we both had a very obvious place in our minds: Karim's! When you have to walk your way through Old Delhi, you can only think of Mughlai cuisine, and it won't be too late before you would start salivating at the thought of roomali roti and malai kofta.

So, we had our lunch. We were filled to our heart's content. We walked out of the restaurant. I remembered I had to buy some firni for a friend of mine who couldn't join us that day. So we were walking deeper and deeper into the lane, in search of some firni. Atlast, we came across this shop selling cupfuls of firni, and there was also this pink coloured beverage that they were making at one corner. I was so enchanted by that sight that I couldn't resist. I told my friend (rather naggingly): "I want to have that drink!"

Before we could figure out what it was called, the shopkeeper handed me a glassful of it and told me: "This is Sharbat-i-Mohabbat. A specialty of Purani Dilli!" I was equally excited and ecstatic. This is the drink I had seen a year back in photos, I suddenly remembered. And here I was, holding it in my hands, in a narrow gali in Old Delhi. My friend, being a Dehlavi, started explaining it's compositional details: that it's rooh-afzah, churned with milk, with some pieces of watermelons added for flavor. He added, "this is actually called Mohabbat ka Sharbat, you know!"

I think I was oblivious to what all he said. I was going through an immersive experience at that moment. The milk was frothy, the rooh-afzah was chilled, the watermelon pieces were freshly-cut, ripe and juicy. This was a glassful of something bubbling with different emotions: an absolutely delightful indulgence. I thought if I had not come to this place, I would have never tasted this heavenly drink! I couldn't thank my friend enough for having accompanied me to this place. Sharbat-i-Mohabbat was really not going to get off my mind anytime soon!

When you sip into this drink, you forget the world around you. You have your own moment. The crowded streets of Chandni-Chowk, the fast changing urbanscape of Old Delhi, everything fades away in memory. It's undoubtedly the greatest gift that Old Delhi has to offer you, on a humid summer afternoon when you are completely drained of all your energy. I really want to go back to that place some day, and stand with my friend, facing the Jama Masjid, sipping into that heavenly concoction. I won't gulp it all in one go, I swear! After all, most things in Delhi have to taken in slowly and gradually.