Delhi’s merciless heat is getting on him. On top of that, with rising temperatures business has taken a dip. Meet Jamshed, a 16-year-old Afghan lad in Lajpat Nagar-1, who sells Afghan Burgers. The lane, next to the Bata showroom in Lajpat Nagar Central Market leads to many Afghan eateries and business enterprises, amid all these shops stands Jamshed with his small burger counter. There is another burger counter next to him, but Jamshed’s counter stands out because he has written burger with an ‘a’. Although, the counter says that it also sells Mantu, but it is never available.

 

The counter looks like a ticket booth in a fair, with an opening through which he takes money, and gives you the burger. The obvious question for a foodie is, “Is there actually something called Afghan burger in Afghanistan or is it an Indian invention?” Jamshed says, “It’s an innovation of my elder brother Shamshad and Umaid. We started it a year ago, but after we started, Umaid returned to Afghanistan. Soonafter, another Afghan put up a similar counter next to us.” Is there any enmity? “No!” comes a straight and simple answer.

To strike this conversation, I had to place an order first. There are just two options — chicken and chicken. Well, the other chicken is ‘so called’ veg, but it can very well qualify for a chicken burger, too. Jamshed, first places thin and soft slices of Afghan naan (bread), than puts chopped cabbage leaves on them followed by grated egg, a piece of shredded chicken and lots of French Fries. He then sprinkles some salt, and then rolls up the bread, and puts it in a paper packet. It looks more like a massive roll than a burger. He serves it with a spoonful of tomato chutney on it. Afghan food is bland, and that characteristic is there in this burger, too. Mind you, Jamshed calls it veg, so which is chicken burger? Well, in that everything is similar, just that before he rolls up the bread, he puts a chicken fried seekh in it. The veg comes for Rs 50, and the chicken burger costs Rs 100.

 

As I devour the burger, conversation wavers from business to life here, and in Afghanistan. “We came to India three years ago; we are six siblings, a niece and my parents,” says Jamshed. Do you go to school? “No, initially, I went to a UN school, here, but later dropped out.” Why did you all come to India? Jamshed, is a bit reluctant to talk about this, he starts, than looks around and stops, finally says that he will tell me someday else.

 

Business, too, isn’t great in summers. “Abhi, saab Afghan wapis chale gaya, phir jaab thandi hawa chaelgi tab ayaengae, phir business jyada hoga,” says Jamshed. I wonder when the wind back home would become favourable for him and his family to return.