Not normally prone to jitters, I’m nevertheless a bit nervous at the prospect ofdining with the notoriously famous and feared Kanwar Pal Singh Gill, formerdirector-general of Punjab Police.
Not normally prone to jitters, I’m nevertheless a bit nervous at the prospect ofdining with the notoriously famous and feared Kanwar Pal Singh Gill, formerdirector-general of Punjab Police.
KPS Gill likes the dum pukht style of cooking and loves the restaurant by the same nameat the Maurya Sheraton in Delhi. He starts off with two large doses of Black Label beforeour exquisite meal. And caps it with: "Nothing wrong in drinking." We have aspread fit for the Nawabs of Avadh—dal, mutton biryani, spiced curd, a bonelessmutton stew simmered in rich saffron and mutton broth. Gill insists I also have thecrumbling khasta roti. "Don’t mix the pickles with such food, they’re meantto enhance tasteless food," he advises.
He reminisces about his childhood when dum pukht was a common style of cooking. Allingredients are put into a vessel and sealed with atta. The charcoal atop the lid and thefire lit at the bottom trap the flavours and fragrances. "lpg’s put an end toall that," he says.
KPS, revered as the man who rid Punjab of terrorism, eats little but appreciates goodfood. He spent most of his service years in the turbulent northeast and wishes he couldassist in its healing process. "When I left Assam, we had got rid of ulfa," hesays. For him, success is not just about hard work but about commitment. "Whereterrorism is concerned, one has to identify the problem and deal with it withoutsentiment," he says. His tone reminds me of the samurai sword: precise and steelcold.
Introducing a lighter note, I ask him what he thinks of the PM’s recent initiativefor women’s development vis-a-vis his derriere-pinching scandal? "I respectwomen, but don’t give them undue importance; I certainly don’t pinchanyone’s bottom. It was planned to slur my reputation," he says, offering medelicately-flavoured mutton.
It is great to see the other side of the stern man. He is able to identify the aromaticspices of the food and then recites the poems of Akhtar-ul-Rehman whose complete workhe’s presently reading. "Books are precious to me," he says.
I end the meal with a perfect, not-too-sweet seb ki phirni. Gill won’t eat the sweet.He goes for Darjeeling tea. Twice during our lunch I urge him to smile. I tell himit’s not good to look so serious. Gill is amused. A twinkle lights up his eyes andhis moustache twitches: "My heart is not love-proof and I’ve experienced love. Idon’t speak much."
Tags