Summer’s treat.

[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Amar Singh Gupta not only makes delicious milky kulfis—such well-controlled sweetness—but also pens thoughtful verses emblazoned on his cart.

Although forever on the move, you’re likely to catch up with him in Bhogal in South Delhi on some hot evening–when you’re not only craving a kulfi or two but perhaps a somber sonnet in the bargain. Such as:
Nazuk hai zindagi, pareshan hain zamana
Tumhe udhar dekar, hame kya kamana
(Life is fragile, distressed is the world
If I give you credit, then what will I earn?)

A seemingly cheerful soul, Mr Gupta can’t for the life of him figure out where these poetic instincts come from. And doesn’t worry about it. He’s far more certain about his kulfi recipe, which is “just simply doodh, klhoya, baadam, elaichi, pista (milk, khoya, almonds, cardamom, pistachio).”

To drive the delicious point home, there’s another enlightening verse on the colourful cart:
Phool hai gulab ka, khushboo liya karon
Kulfi hai khoye ki, maze liya karon
(This flower is pure rose, enjoy its perfume)
This kulfi is of pure khoya, enjoy it full)

Mr Gupta personally makes these kulfis at home, every morning for the past 15 years or so. After packing about 100 of them, he hits the road from noon onwards “until the kulfis are over!” Which can happen pretty fast, in the heat of summertime. Or, as another sonnet on his cart clearly points out:
Kahi garmi kahi sardi, yeh sab kudrat ke nazare hain
Pyas unko bhi lagti hain, jo darya ke kinare hain
(There’s summer, there’s winter, these are all wonders of nature,
Even those folk feel thirsty, who are right next to the river)

Summer’s cold poetry, eat it

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