All of us I am sure are part of some social media platform and are connected with your near and dear ones. One of the groups may be of your school, college or university mates. We have our school group wherein messages vary from Olympic updates to birthdays and anniversaries. One of my schoolmates – Pushpanker – had his anniversary and one of the pictures he posted was that of Biryani with bold captions – ‘PIRU MIYA BIRYANI’. This took me back to my childhood days when Piru Miya had his shack at Meria Bazaar.
Circa 1970: All siblings and cousins were hurdled in a rickety rickshaw for our morning tuition. The rickshaw used to pass through the smoky shack of Piru Miya aka Piru Bhai. He used to wear a checked lungi with netted vest and vigorously fan the clay ‘Coal Chula’, The shack had walls and a partition made of intertwined bamboos. The air near its shop had its share of benzene, carbon monoxide, formaldehyde, sulphur dioxide and other aromatic hydrocarbons with white smog. When we returned after an hour, the aroma of spicy food floated through the air making one salivate. This was Piru Miya, the morning menu of the shop included parathas, roti, chicken kasha, keema kalegi, and tea. On Fridays and Sundays, he used to prepare a special dish ‘Thaka Biryani’.
Circa 1975: Piru Miya shifted to a rented premises at Peyton Shahi. His customer base had increased so also the additions to the menu. He introduced shami kebab, which was quite a size and tasty also. It was roughly ¾ inch thick and could cover a medium size palm. This was a meal in itself. If we compare the kebab and the patty of leading burgers, Piru Miya’s stands out. What intrigued me was his ‘Thaka Biryani’: this was mainly ordered if any of our guests came to our house on the non-veg meal days – Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. From what I could gather from my parents – Thaka means a layer of rice in different colours. Yes, of course, one could see the coloured rice in layers, peeping into the biryani pot. It seemed this was his trade secret.
His biryani stood apart – the meat was soft, around three to four coloured rice – red, yellow, green and white. The aroma was quite different. From the grapevine, we could gather that this biryani recipe was from across the North West border. Apart from that, we sneaked on the Biryani days and savoured ourselves with a quarter plate, which used to cost us Rs 5. This quarter plate quantity had enough rice along with two pieces of 100-150 gms goat meat.
Piru Miya, his real name is Md. Samir. He was born and brought up in Cuttack. He was the son of Md. Naqvi. He had three brothers and one sister, for his sustenance Piru Miya started working in a ‘Gudhaku factory’ owned by one of the influential Muslim families – Akbar Khan. This could not hold his attention for long and he started a betel /pan shop but still, he yearned for more.
Piru Miya then joined his cousin Dhadiya Miya in a shack near Capital Cinema (Tinkonia Bagicha) serving only mutton/chicken chop and parathas. After some time he started his own shack at Meria Bazaar, his USP was ‘Thaka Biryan’. It had created a niche: clients and customers flocked on Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Getting a seat was difficult and one had to wait to have one.
Piru Miya’s shack was the first Biryani outlet in Cuttack. The outlet later shifted from one place to another – Meria bazaar to Peyton Shahi to Dakbar Sahi to Tinkonia Bazaar. Piru had four sons and one daughter – Sabbir has a hardware store in Bhadrak, Jakkir is an electrician, Sakkir is the head chef in Barabati Restaurant and Zahir is carrying on the legacy of Piru Miya. He is now operating from his home at Makarba Shahi.
Circa 2021: On August 1, we decided to try on Piru Miya menu – the legacy being carried forward by his son Zahir aka Lala as he is popularly known in Cuttack. At a designated point, I met my friend and had a discussion on the Piru Miya Biryani.
We called Lala and ordered a Biryani, Chicken Kasha, and Kebab – all of it was the signature dish of Piru Miya. Due to lockdown, we could not dine in and thus, packed them for lunch. The food was average on all counts except for the Kebabs, which tasted really good. One could feel that something was missing – Piru Miya’s touch. Though Lala has tried his best, we could still feel the void left by Piru Miya’s. It is a lost food.
(With Inputs from Puspankar Banerjee, Cuttack)
