At the heart of this delight on a plate lies the crumbly shell of the phuchka, or pani puri, but here churmur-ed – literally smashed to smithereens. When zinged with an array of ingredients – tamarind water, chunks of boiled potatoes, small slices of tomato, chickpeas, etc – each bite is a dive into layers of crunchiness and softness, a zigzag for the palate.
Each morsel is a wake-up call; each chew is a call to arms. The ordinary day has been pushed out with sheer tanginess and spices. The mingling aromas of spices and the sound of the crisp rice crunching under teeth recall you to the real world where the senses are supreme.
The pleasures of wolving down a plate of churmur go beyond the mere act of eating. It is a sensory delight, a culinary adventure, and a clarion call that elevates eating – a word that falls so woefully short here – into an untimely Holi celebration of the palate.