The Lucknow Kabab Seller Who Never Reads 'Lucknow News in Hindi'

A powerful personal story about what happens when you stop reading 'lucknow news in hindi' and start living instead.

8 min read
The Lucknow Kabab Seller Who Never Reads 'Lucknow News in Hindi'

The kabab was melting in my mouth. The seller was smiling. I asked him about the news. He laughed.

Lucknow is the city of nawabs, biryani, and tehzeeb (manners). It's also a city that gets a lot of news coverage – in Hindi and Urdu.

I opened “lucknow news in hindi” before my trip. What did I see?

A political rally in Hazratganj

A crime story in a distant colony

A traffic jam on a main road

A dispute over some old building

I expected a tense, angry city. Then I ate kabab.

The kabab seller's name was Irfan

He had been selling kababs for 25 years. His father sold kababs. His grandfather sold kababs.

I asked: “Do you read ‘lucknow news in hindi’?”

He said: “No. I read the fire.”

“What does the fire tell you?”

“The fire tells me when the kabab is ready. When it's too hot. When it's just right. That's all the news I need.”

What Irfan sees every day

Irfan sees a Lucknow that news never shows:

The old man who comes every evening for one kabab. He has been coming for 10 years.

The young couple who share a plate. They are saving money for their wedding.

The college student who eats here between classes. He is studying to be a doctor.

The auto driver who gets a free kabab on his birthday.

“These are Lucknow,” Irfan said. “Not the politicians. Not the crimes. Not the traffic.”

The one time news came to his shop

I asked: “Has a journalist ever come to your shop?”

Irfan laughed. “Once. A politician was visiting the area. News crew came. They wanted to film me making kabab behind the politician.”

“I said no. I don't sell kabab for politics. I sell kabab for hunger.”

“They left. They never came back. My kabab is still selling.”

What “lucknow news in hindi” misses

I spent 3 days in Lucknow. Here's what I saw that no headline mentioned:

The Imambara at sunset. Quiet. Golden. Majestic.

The chai at Royal Cafe. 100 years old. Same taste.

The book market in Hazratganj. Old books. New readers.