Kolkata is nothing without its bustling streets filled with the aromas of delicious snacks being sold by vendors. The vendors on the streets of Kolkata unify people across classes; regardless of whether one drives a luxury car or travels by the metro, everyone from all walks of life shares a part in it. The sight of a bunch of tired corporate employees munching away and sipping tea from tiny earthen cups is distinctive to Kolkata. Amongst the popularity of other tea-time snacks like phuchka and jhal muri, the humble chana jor garam struggles to make its place. Despite the fierce competition, the most loyal of the snack enthusiasts still have room in their hearts for this delightful snack. Made with flattened chickpeas, onions and spices unique to every seller, chana jor garam is given a slightly anglicised twist and another layer of texture, with potato chips thrown in for good measure.

The popularity of this snack used to be so immense that it managed to make its way into Bollywood as well, with an entire song being penned down on it by Jaan Nissar Akhtar in 1956 for the film Naya Andaz. The chana jor garam sellers, who were once known for their clever and eccentric little songs to attract customers, have seen a decline in popularity over the years. Their numbers have dwindled to just a couple hundred in the entire city, mainly found in upscale areas where people are willing to pay 40 rupees for a small packet of flattened chickpeas.

What intrigues one the most is the white attire donned by all chana jor sellers; in an era where it is rare to spot a person walking down the street in a traditional Indian dhoti-kurta, you can spot them almost always in leather Kolhapuris and their clothes, starched and ironed to a crisp, offering a bout of nostalgia. They stick out amidst other vibrantly decked vendors and shops and are easily identifiable by their clothes. While a lot is written about the origins of other street foods like phuchka, which is said to originate from the Mahabharata, little is known about the origins of this snack or even the authority behind their dress code, and the fresh batch of sellers seem to be both unaware and uninterested in knowing about this profession’s history.

“40 for one. Normal or jhaal?” Abhilesh Yadav, a young man in his 30s, stands nonchalantly making chana jor for a hoard of office-going people. “It’s our uniform; we can’t sell without wearing one.” He explains, gesturing at his cap. Clad in a traditional white dhoti-kurta, with a white cap and a basket hung over his shoulder in a white cloth for good measure, Abhilesh, originally from Bihar, regularly serves patrons in Vardaan Market in the vibrant Park Street area. When questioned about his distinctive attire, he remarked, “Nobody gives us this uniform, not the government either. We arrange it ourselves.” While the ingredients of this snack are no secret, the spices added to it differ, and it is quite a task to convince any seller to reveal what they add to their mix of spices.

Street vendors form the most economically vulnerable segment of the Indian population, encountering numerous hurdles in their quest for financial security. The distinctive attire donned by chana jor sellers not only serves as a uniform but also provides them with a sense of identity, enabling them to navigate the frequent crackdowns by civic authorities more effectively. However, as the laws have become more stringent over the years, the number of sellers has significantly reduced as they have largely restricted their turfs to Victoria Memorial, shopping centres and malls.

Just like the colonial buildings in Kolkata with Edwardian and Victorian architecture offer the streets of the city of joy a bit of old-world charm and nostalgia, so do these sellers. However, one must be wary of romanticising their state of poverty. Despite being an integral part of the urban landscape and a popular choice for street food, chana jor garam vendors often find themselves caught in the enduring conflict between civic authorities and street vendors, which dates back many decades. The challenges they face were further compounded by the pandemic, making their financial situation even more precarious.