A sense of urgency is in the air. Ponvizha Mahal, a wedding hall in a by-lane off Eswaran Kovil Street in Kottaimedu, is enveloped in the sweet smell of biryani. With less than 45 minutes to go for iftar, the fast-breaking evening meal during Ramzan, members of the Thareekathul Islam Shafia Jamath are preparing to welcome over 500 people to partake in nonbu kanji, mutton biryani, paruppu vadai, and mango juice. B A Badurdeen, the vice-president of the group that is affiliated to the Kottai Thareekathul Islam Shafia Jamath Mosque, is pouring mango juice into a row of steel tumblers. Nearby, other members are scooping biryani into plates to be placed at waiting tables.
“This is a yearly tradition,” says Badurdeen, pausing to dip a jug into a gigantic steel vessel filled with juice with ice cubes floating atop. Every year, the jamath, that is over 80 years old, offers free iftar through Ramzan. Contributions come from its members, most of whom are from Coimbatore.
Today’s meal, is an offering by A Amanullah, a Hyderabad-based businessman who is originally from the city. “I have long been having the niyat [intention] to do so,” says Amanullah, adding that his offering is in memory of his father who passed away last month. Amanulla had to book his slot a month ahead since he was keen to sponsor a non-vegetarian meal — the jamath serves non-veg only on weekends.
On other days, the iftar menu consists of dishes such as uthappam and coconut chutney, idiyappam with coconut milk, parotta with kadalai curry, and vegetable biryani, with a side of vadai and a juice, along with nonbu kanji, that is served every day. “Apart from the meal, we also offer kanji for 1000 people every day,” adds A Sidique, the secretary.
The Kottaimedu mosque dates back to 1936; it was was registered in 1942. A lot of planning goes into iftar at the mosque. “We meet a month ahead to decide on the menu, the sponsors, among other things,” explains Badurdeen, adding, “People from the neighbourhood also contribute food.” Just then, 11-year-old A Adil and his five-year-old sister Minha Fatima walk in to drop off the warm chapatis and kurma their mother has made. This is served along with the pre-planned meal for the evening.
Soon, people start walking in to take their seats at the long tables arranged in rows at the hall: in front of them, are plates of hot biryani and onion raita, a side of vadai and a date, a bowl of kanji, and a tumbler of mango juice. They do not touch their food yet: the fast will be broken by 6.37pm sharp.
Behind, in the kitchen, A Zenat and team, who are part of Selvapuram-based Jameela’s catering service, look on as bowlfuls of biryani they have cooked, are being moved to the serving area. They cooked 60 kilograms of the dish, along with 60 kilograms of kanji, for which they started the prep work at noon.
It is 6.15pm and the hall is almost full; Mohammed Ali, an executive committee member, stands at the entrance, welcoming people. “Nombaali [one who is fasting], take a seat,” he says, showing the way inside. Mohammad Yusuf, dressed in a white kurta and dhoti, is seated near the door, watching the men walking in. The 75-year-old grew up on Vincent Street in the neighbourhood, and knows most people in the locality. “There are 190 pallivaasal [mosques] in the city, and all of them offer free iftar meals,” says Yusuf, who once owned a soda factory in the neighbourhood.
The hum of conversation rents the air as the hall is now filled to the brim. Gradually, voices turn into whispers, and finally, die down as the clock strikes 6.37pm. Those who have gathered close their eyes in prayer. The air is thick with stillness, and the silent invocation of over 500 men. Outside, on the steps, a vagrant, drawn by the promise of a meal, takes refuge. Sidique hurries to offer him a plate of chapati and kurma before he breaks his fast. No one is left out.
