Meet the Sweet Shops of Old Delhi Where Freedom Fighters Ate, Communed and Plotted Revolution

In the narrow and serpentine lanes of Old Delhi, where each brick bears a story of perseverance and each corner reverberates with murmurs of dissent, there are two famous sweet shops that were used as secret meeting places for India's freedom fighters. The lanes of Old Delhi are forever teeming with sweet shops and snack joints, but little did you know that these spaces were also integral to India's freedom struggle? They were much more than simple sweet shops, they were refuges of rebellion, safe-houses where revolutionaries planned their arrangements over tea and sweets.

The Revolutionary Refuge of Chandni Chowk At Ghantewala

At the very heart of Chandni Chowk is Ghantewala, a sweet shop that has existed since the very end of the Mughal Empire. "This shop is India's oldest street food shop. In 1790 Shah Alam used to be the Mughal emperor of India. Since that time," mentions the current owner, his voice heavy with 235 years of history. The timing of its founding is significant- founded during a period of political turbulence, Ghantewala would see a journey from Mughal twilight, through British colonialism, to independence.

Between 1911 and 1912, the Delhi-Lahore Conspiracy aimed to assassinate the then Viceroy of India Lord Hardinge when the British capitol of India was being transferred from Calcutta to New Delhi. The conspiracy culminated in an attempted assassination on 23 December 1912, in which the processional moved through the Chandni Chowk suburb of Delhi. In the same neighborhood where Ghantewala was located, revolutionaries, like Rash Behari Bose, planned one of the most brazen acts against British authority.

The shop was conveniently located as it was an easy place for freedom fighters to meet up. The Clock Tower, in the days of the freedom struggle, served as the epicenter of public meetings and demonstrations. In 1919, the protesters led by Swami Shraddhanand clashed with the British Army fighting the oppressive Rowlatt Act. Right around the corner from all that frenzy, Ghantewala provided a seemingly innocuous place where revolutionaries could meet and plan their next moves. 

"My nephew is the 8th generation, so we have done this from generation to generation," says the proprietor, clearly proud of this legacy. 

There is a long-standing political connection as well. "Many entertainers have come to this shop. When Indira Gandhi was there in her time, Rajiv Gandhi got married to Sonia Gandhi ji. So all the sweets were from here," the owner stated. The shop has served Mughal emperors, presidents, prime ministers of India, all the way back from Nehru to his grandson Rajiv Gandhi. The loyalty of India's first prime minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, to the shop after independence illustrates relationships made during the underground years.

The Chawri Bazaar Conspiracy Hub of Shyam Sweets

Another sweet shop with revolutionary roots still exists in Chawri Bazaar, serving people of Delhi. Even its location has historical roots predating British rule. "Chawri is a Marathi word. When Shivaji was in the time of the Mughals, he hid here for some time. And, Chawri means to make palanquins. He hid here making palanquins," explains the owner, for whom the location immediately lends credentials to the historical authority-resisting nature of tradition.

Shyam Sweets has been open 120-125 years, and has occupied the location well. "My forefather started this shop. Our shop was independent," the owner says proudly. The term "independent," carries resonance—although by British standards the economic tightening took away the life-world choices of people like Shyam Sweets that could be autonomous spaces for revolutionary thinking.

Royal connections offered the shop a veil of respectability that was more than useful during the struggle for independence. "We have even heard that our ancestors delivered Halwa Nagari to the palace during the time of Bahadur Shah Zafar." the owner tells us. To have served the last Mughal created a tradition of resistance to foreign occupation that continued in the British period. 

The bearing of the establishment in the freedom struggle makes sense when the political patrons who have had their patronage associated with the establishment are taken into account. "There used to be Mr. Nehru, Mr. Indira, Mr. Atal— Mr. Atal loved our shop! The man lived for Matar Chawri," the owner fondly reminisces. The presence of persons like Nehru and later leaders indicates that these relationships probably began during the independence movement when that kind of establishment was more neutral space for soliciting political debate.

The Underground Network of Revolutionary Sweets

These sweet shops were critical nodes in Delhi's secret network of resistance; Tiranga Barfi, who was based on the figure of Gandhiji for our National flag, soon became a favored dessert, and as of today, the shops carry out this dessert during independent day and Republic day. Clearly, these patriotic desserts not only created buzz through the shared nature of the product, but also showed just how responsive and passionate sweet shop owners were to the cause of India's independence. In addition to this demonstration of support, the economy of flow through of customers as they frequented these shops likely created the perfect cover for freedom fighters to meet in a public place. The freedom fighters could eat sweet/halawa and talk about the strategy underlying the operations without any of the British suspecting. The suppliers and vendors, the shop owners supported a large network which had touchpoints with all corners of the city. The shops’ established role in their communities provided them with a respectable status which should leave them largely unimpacted by colonial suspicions.

The significance of sweets, and how much they meant to the freedom struggle, can be seen in the fact that sweets were the first item of food distributed by anyone when India became independent. Celebrating freedom with sweets speaks volumes about the relationship between food/culinary traditions and political freedom.

After modern Delhi changed, the sweet shops remained the institutional memory of protest. The shop owners, who maintained their traditional recipes, acted not just financially, but as keepers of traditional recipes that fuelled the dream of freedom for India's freedom fighters.

"We serve the people of our country. Our shop has been serving them for a long time", reflects the owner of Shyam Sweets with quiet dignity. In a sense, this is a statement of place and time: the often understated patriotic resolve of these food establishments, selflessly serving when their responsibility was to serve their community, with hopes of freedom and a safe and welcoming place for two men with a dream of a free India.