Gazak: A Sweet Confection that Ties Karachi to Aligarh
The story of gazak, a sesame and jaggery confection with roots in Madhya Pradesh, and how it found its way in the narrow alleyways of the Old Exhibition neighbourhood of Karachi, is a tale of migration, resettlement and economic survival.
The lane leading upto the Shafi Gazak Specialist shopfront in the Old Exhibition neighbourhood of Karachi is lined with automobile spare parts and repair shops. A man carrying an electric blue tin cart laden with flaky chicken patties trudges along the narrow alleyways, offering his patties to shopkeepers. During the monsoon, in late August, the neighbourhood is flooded; several inches of water have pooled on the street with no escape route. Behind the shop counter, at the edge of the lane, stands Mohammed Shafi, a burly man in his early 60s, who has been manufacturing and selling gazak, a diamond shaped confection made with sesame seeds and jaggery, for the last 25 years. He carries the legacy of his father, Abdul Rashid, who set up the business in the 1950s after migrating from Aligarh to Karachi after Partition.
Gazak is a delicacy found in cities and towns across both Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh, but its origins are traced to the city of Morena in MP, where at present, over 250 gajak manufacturers have joined forces to apply for a GI tag — a certification to specify the geographical origins of a product. Due to its warming properties, gazak is served as a prasad during Lohri and Makar Sankranti, a festival that marks the winter solstice; the end of winter, the beginning of spring and harvest season. While gazak’s roots lie in Madhya Pradesh, cities in UP such as Meerut and Aligarh are particularly renowned for their gazak making skills. According to Jalali Wale’s Gazak and Sweets, an Aligarh institution that has been preparing the confectionary for over 80 years, the gazak made from peanut, jaggery, sesame seeds and chickpeas was developed in Mughal times as a fortifying source of energy for soldiers.
The consumption of gazak in Pakistan is not associated with any religious festivals but is mostly consumed in winter. For communities that migrated to Pakistan from Aligarh and other parts of UP, the confection also embodies a connection to a place that was once home. Aligarh particularly holds significance for many Pakistanis as a university town that is home to the Aligarh Muslim University (AMU) established in 1875, which was the bedrock of the intellectual renaissance of Muslims during the pre-Partition years. My maternal grandfather who studied law there in the 1930s, often continued to enjoy gazak after lunch decades after he graduated, in Karachi, occasionally dunking it in milk. Upon dissolving, the milk would take on a kheer-like consistency, sweetened with the flavour of jaggery. Shafi’s family as well as my own, belong to Karachi’s muhajir Urdu-speaking community, an ethno-linguistic identity ascribed to Muslim communities from UP, MP, Bihar, Gujarat, and Hyderabad-Deccan, who migrated to Pakistan at the time of Partition. For several decades these settlers comprised the largest ethnic group by population size in Karachi. But the city’s demographics have shifted significantly in the last few decades with migrant workers and small business owners from the Northern parts of the country arriving in search of better economic opportunities. Men such as Shafi, a repository of confectionary wisdom, are the last vestiges of a generation that is now beginning to fade away. Although Shafi was born in Karachi, he still identifies strongly with his Aligarh roots — a common sentiment among the muhajir population who have played a pivotal role in shaping the city’s commercial and cultural landscape over the decades. “My father and paternal grandfather were both involved in gazak production when they lived in Aligarh. That is the only trade they knew when they moved to Karachi. So continuing the family trade was their only source of livelihood in a new country,” he explains. Shafi’s clientele spans ethnicities, but he emphasises (in Urdu), “Yeh muhajiron ki soghaat hai” (Gazak is a souvenir for the migrants). He notes that now it has a wider appeal, as other cities in Pakistan have developed a taste for it. As a result of gazak’s rising popularity, Shafi now supplies in wholesale quantities to retail outlets all over the country.
Acknowledging the need for imparting gazak production skills to those outside the family, Shafi remarks: “Our gazak is produced from heirloom recipes. When we lived in Aligarh, the method of preparation was passed down through generations in the family. But now we have to teach others in order to keep the business going. Our future generations have moved into other professions, and are not interested in carrying on the trade.” Shafi notes that the recipe for gazak is not documented, but instead is transmitted orally. He has seven workers in his factory in Landhi, an industrial part of Karachi, whom he has trained over the years. “The ingredients used to produce gazak are limited in number, but the technique requires a lot of practice and attention to detail. This is not easy to master because you have to keep a close eye on the viscosity of the molten jaggery syrup, and be able to achieve the optimal consistency,” he adds.
Shafi explains that the health benefits of sesame seeds are a major driver of gazak’s popularity in the subcontinent. Historical records suggest that sesame seeds can be traced back to over 4000 years ago in the Indus Valley Civilisation, present-day Pakistan and Northwest India. Due to the presence of antioxidants found in sesame seeds, they have also been referred to as the seed of immortality in the Vedas. Shafi sources sesame seeds from Hyderabad, Sindh, but the cost has doubled in the last year, which has led him to increase prices, and that has subsequently impacted demand. In the summer months, business is typically slow as gazak consumption spikes when the temperatures drop. “We see a peak in sales from November to February because gazak is a winter confection, and is more affordable than dry fruits,” Shafi tells me. In the winter season 100 kilos of gazak are prepared in the workshop each day, for sale in the shop as well as for supplying to other vendors. The workshop also has capacity for the production of other confections such as gur rewri, til kay ladoo and batashay (sweet sugar drops popular as wedding favours).
Shafi escorts me out with the comment that gazak is more than nostalgia for the past, for a displaced population, but has come to represent a means for economic sustenance in the present. While the sweetness of gajak hasn’t sated the yearning for their ancestral cities, it has come to be a reminder that a piece of home can be found here, made in memoriam.
Rida Bilgrami is a writer based in London. Her recent work has previously appeared in VICE, Eater and Gastro Obscura and focuses on the intersection of food, migration and identity.
Banner image credit: Foodywoodyme
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