A bright yellow poster in tatters announces ' Madurai Panchanathan Company – Bheema pushti Halwa' and beneath is a life-size black-and-white illustration of two muscled men – one with a crown carrying a Dhandayutham on the shoulder and the other wearing a skimpy boxer showing off rippling muscles. The former is to be understood as Bheema from Mahabharata and the latter is a pehelwan receiving a piece of halwa from Bheema. Until few years ago, it wasn't uncommon to find this customary ad in road-side shacks during the Chithirai festival. The peculiar bheema pushti halwa and the strange shops selling it mushroomed only during the festivals every year and were much awaited by the people.
“Everything about the halwa was amusing and the excitement of eating it indescribable. The the vendor used to have a typical mannerism to attract customers. He would throw a big knife up in the air and after a couple of rotations it would fall straight on the slab of halwa piercing it,” recalls Chithiraiveethikaran, a die-hard fan of the halwa. On Wikipedia, his Facebook page Madurai - Thiruvizha Nagaram and his blog maduraivaasagan@wordpress.com, he records intriguing aspects of traditional festivals in and around Madurai. “That's how I grew curious of the bheema pushti halwa .”
“It's hard and chewy, unlike the other halwas and is displayed as big slabs of yellow or deep brown, translucent and shiny from all the ghee and oil used in the preparation. It used to be strewn with coconut shavings, nuts like almonds, cashews and pistachios and dry fruits. The very sight was inviting and the vendor would cut it like a loaf of bread and serve it in slices.”
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“It was sticky and rubbery to bite,” remembers Krishnan Paramasivam, another halwa addict. “It was too sugary in taste and slippery in texture. The crunchy and crackling coconut shavings and nuts complimented the gooey halwa. I used to enjoy eating it in the evenings at the Kallazhagar festival,” he adds.
Sundar Matpadi, who lives in the US now, fondly remembers the popularity of the sweet and how elders would joke with bulky kids enquiring if they had been feeding on the
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Sadly, the sweet has gone missing in recent times. “The last time I saw the halwa was three years ago at Appan Thirupathi during Chithirai . After that, I met the vendors during the Aadi chariot festival,” says Chithiraiveethikaran. “The Appan Thirupathi festival was once a colourful rural carnival that used to happened throughout the night. Over the years, the festival has disintegrated and with it have vanished the small peculiar elementslike the bheema pushti halwa .”
Chithiraiveethikaran had met the makers of the halwa earlier and also picked up the recipe from them. “A Madurai family was running the business for four generations. I saw them not only in temple festivalsbut also at the Santhanakoodu festival of Erwadi Dargah and Velankanni Church festivals apart from small village melas at Veerapandi, Thayamangalam and Vellalore,” he recalls.
“The halwa is made with wheat and sugar. The intriguing part was their selling technique. They named it after Bheema and successfully marketed it as healthy snack.”
“Fifty years ago, halwa was an occasional festival indulgence. Now, there are more varieties of halwa and sweets to choose from. “It could be a reason for the disappearance of bheema pushti halwa ,” Paramasivam thinks aloud .
But till it remained in circulation, the bheema pushti halwa was identified as the sweet of the poor who could not afford any other expensive milk sweet. A slice of the halwa came for just ₹.Five but the happiness it kindled and the popularity it enjoyed was much bigger.