Bharddaj Halwai

Out on the Palwal Khambi Road, things are a bit slower than in the main city. We are located in Goan Marroli, and it is mostly fields and small houses around our area. As a halwai, my day starts long before the sun actually comes up. I have to get the fire going for the big iron vats we use for cooking. We make large batches of things because people in the village have big families and lots of guests. The smell of frying oil fills the air every single morning. You can see the smoke rising from our chimney from way down the road. Local farmers often stop by on their tractors to get something to eat before they head out to the fields for the day. We do not have any fancy seating for customers, just a couple of old wooden benches under the shade of the roof. The walls are stained from years of cooking over the open flame, but that is how a real kitchen looks. I spend most of my time stirring the milk or flipping the snacks in the hot oil. My clothes always smell like sweets and spices, even after I go home. It is hard work, especially when it is hot outside and you are standing next to a furnace. But the people in Marroli depend on us for their daily snacks. We do not bother with much advertising; people just know we are here.