From Sambhar to Sarcasm: Tracing Marathi's Flavours and Wit Across History
Fluent in Marathi? Congratulations, you are fluent in sarcasm too, now we can be friends.
Growing up in Pune, breakfast often meant a trip to Vaishali, the iconic eatery that every Punekar holds dear. For me, it wasn’t just about the food,it was about the ritual. The anticipation of piping hot idlis paired with their crowd-favorite sambhar was enough to make standing in long queues and braving Pune’s fickle weather worthwhile.
For those who’ve never experienced it, let me warn you: Vaishali’s sambhar is unlike the sambhar you’d find in a South Indian kitchen. It has its own distinct character, a flavour that stirs nostalgia in some and raises eyebrows in others. I’ve had friends endure the wait, only to take a sip and exclaim, “What is this? This isn’t sambhar!” They’re not entirely wrong. The sambhar you get at Vaishali is nothing like the version served in South India.
But here’s where things get interesting. What if I told you that Vaishali’s sambhar is, in a way, more “authentic” than you might think?
It turns out that sambhar gets its name from Sambhaji, the son of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. The story goes that in the 17th century, Sambhaji was in Thanjavur, where he decided to experiment in the royal kitchen. With the head chef away, Sambhaji added tamarind to amti, a traditional Maharashtrian lentil dish. The kitchen staff told him tamarind wasn’t part of the recipe, but Sambhaji loved his creation so much that it became a regular feature of the royal menu, earning the name “sambhar.”
When I first learned this while watching a
video, it was like everything clicked. Vaishali’s sambhar may not match the South Indian version, but it’s got its own authenticity, a reflection of Marathi culture and its rich history of influence and adaptation.This discovery got me thinking: Marathi isn’t just a language, it’s a lens through which we can trace the economic and political footprint of one of India’s most powerful empires. From the Deccan Plateau to Thanjavur, the Marathas carried their language, culture, and governance to regions that would adopt and adapt them, leaving an enduring legacy.
Today, Marathi’s influence continues to shape regional geopolitics and economics. The spread of the language wasn’t just a cultural phenomenon; it was a strategic tool. It facilitated trade, administration, and diplomacy, creating connections that extended far beyond the Maratha heartland. Even the evolution of dishes like sambhar reflects how these connections were forged, not just through conquests but through exchanges that wove Marathi culture into the fabric of other regions.
1. The Lasting Impact of Marathi in Southern India:
The Marathas didn’t just expand their empire through military prowess, they built bridges through trade, language, and ideas, leaving a legacy that still echoes in southern India. One of the most fascinating ways this played out was in Karnataka.
Let’s start with trade. The Marathas knew that commerce was the lifeblood of any empire, and they worked hard to nurture it. Take the Narayanpet silk and cotton industry, for example. This thriving trade owes its origins to the Swakula Sali community, a group of skilled Marathi-speaking weavers who put the small town of Narayanpet on the map. Their efforts didn’t just enrich the local economy but also wove Marathi cultural influence into the fabric of Karnataka, quite literally!
During Maratha rule, silk was one of the major economic activities in Southern India, and Marathi-speaking merchants were at the center of it all. They bridged linguistic gaps between Kannada-speaking weavers and traders from other regions, using Marathi as the language of contracts, trade agreements, and everyday transactions. This wasn’t just good for business, it was transformative. The language left such an impression that even today, northern Karnataka districts are peppered with Marathi words. Words like khōli (room), kākā (uncle), and khānāvaḷi (a mess serving meals) have become part of the local vernacular.
And it’s not just the words. The way people count reflects this shared heritage. In rural areas along the Maharashtra-Karnataka border, people often use Marathi numbers like pannās (50) and shambhar (100) instead of Kannada equivalents. Even naming conventions carry the Maratha stamp, with surnames like Patil and Deshpande being commonplace across North Karnataka.
Marathi influence didn’t stop at the landlocked regions of Karnataka. The Marathas also established a formidable navy under commanders like Kanhoji Angre, securing coastal trade routes in the Arabian Sea. Marathi became the lingua franca for coastal merchants, fishermen, and even pirates operating under Maratha protection. The navy’s dominance allowed Marathi-speaking traders to negotiate favourable terms with Arab and European merchants, further solidifying the language’s importance in trade and diplomacy.
But trade and everyday language were just the start. Marathi also left its mark on intellectual life. Did you know that the early stirrings of Kannada nationalism in Dharwad were influenced by Marathi ideas? Newspapers like Kesari, founded by Bal Gangadhar Tilak, were widely read in the region, sparking debates and inspiring movements. Even prominent Kannada writers like Girish Karnad, who spent his formative years in Dharwad, drew inspiration from Marathi literature. It’s a reminder of how ideas flow freely across linguistic lines when there’s mutual respect and exchange.
Today, the Marathi presence in Karnataka remains strong, particularly in districts like Bijapur, Bidar, Gulbarga, and Belagavi, where Marathi-speaking communities form large minorities, or even majorities in some areas.
2. How Marathi Shaped the Identity of Bundelkhand:
If you’ve ever watched Bajirao Mastani, you’ve likely been swept away by the grandeur of Mastani’s journey to Pune, a love story immortalised in legend. But as captivating as the story is, it’s only one side of the coin. According to lore, Mastani’s presence in Pune and her origins in Bundelkhand represent far more than just romance; they symbolise a rich cultural exchange that shaped both regions.
Mastani was the daughter of Maharaja Chhatrasal, the Bundelkhand ruler who sought Bajirao Peshwa’s assistance against Afghan aggression. The Peshwa’s intervention was a turning point for Bundelkhand, which became part of the Maratha Empire. With this alliance came not only military support but also a deep infusion of Marathi administrative practices, trade systems, and language into the region.
As the story goes, Mastani’s transition to Pune brought Bundelkhand’s unique cultural flavors to the Maratha heartland. And while she adapted to Pune’s traditions, Bundelkhand itself underwent a transformation under Marathi influence. Bajirao’s timely intervention not only secured Chhatrasal’s reign but also granted the Marathas a significant stake in Bundelkhand. This was no ordinary alliance; it marked the beginning of a Marathi transformation in the heart of central India.
One key figure in this transformation was Govindpant Bundele, a skilled administrator hailing from Maharashtra’s Konkan region. His stewardship of Bundelkhand introduced Marathi administrative practices, which streamlined governance and enhanced trade. Govindpant didn’t just collect tributes; he nurtured Bundelkhand’s economy, establishing the town of Sagar as a trading hub. Marathi-speaking merchants followed suit, integrating Bundelkhand into a broader economic network that spanned regions under Maratha control.
Trade was only part of the story. Marathi became the language of administration, commerce, and governance in Bundelkhand, bridging linguistic divides between Bundeli-speaking locals and Marathi officials. Over time, Marathi words and practices seeped into the local culture, shaping how communities interacted, traded, and governed themselves.
Even in the realm of identity, Bundelkhand felt Marathi influence. Names like “Govindpant Bundele” reflect this cultural blending, where Marathi roots intertwined with Bundeli pride. The Marathi systems of revenue collection and diplomacy laid a foundation that supported Bundelkhand’s prosperity and its connection to Pune, the beating heart of the Maratha Empire.
This integration wasn’t without resistance or complexity, but it exemplified the Maratha knack for uniting diverse regions under a shared framework. Bundelkhand’s economy thrived, its towns grew, and its people adapted to a new linguistic and administrative reality.
Today, the echoes of this Marathi-Bundeli synthesis remain in the region’s culture, governance, and even vocabulary. It’s a reminder of how language and trade can act as subtle forces of change, shaping communities in ways that endure long after the empires that set them in motion have faded.
Bundelkhand’s story isn’t just about conquests and kingdoms; it’s about the transformative power of ideas, words, and connections. And in this tale, Marathi stands not just as a language but as a bridge that links a Rajput heartland to the Maratha world.
3. Marathi’s Lasting Imprint on Thanjavur’s Socio-Economic and Cultural Fabric:
If you grew up in the 90s, you might recall staying in the car longer than necessary just to catch the end of your favorite song playing on the radio. This ritual of pausing everything for the love of art isn’t new. It’s said to stretch as far back as the late 1600s, when Sahaji I, a Maratha ruler of Thanjavur, once halted an important administrative meeting to correct a performer’s rhythm during a dance rehearsal. This passion for artistic perfection was emblematic of the Maratha influence on Thanjavur, a transformative era that fused cultures and elevated the region to a pinnacle of socio-economic and cultural prosperity.
It started with the Maratha conquest of Thanjavur in 1676, led by Venkoji (Ekoji), and marked the introduction of Marathi as a significant force in the region's linguistic and cultural landscape. Marathi, which quickly became the language of administration and courtly discourse, played a pivotal role in shaping the socio-economic and cultural identity of Thanjavur.
Marathi was not just confined to governance but influenced the arts and cultural expressions deeply. Sahaji I, a Maratha ruler of Thanjavur, is remembered for his passion for the performing arts, composing Marathi plays and poetry that were staged at court. These works, blending Marathi and local themes, elevated the language as a medium of artistic expression. Performers were often trained in Marathi to execute these compositions, embedding the language into the region’s artistic DNA.
The literary contributions in Marathi extended to the Saraswathi Mahal Library, which was enriched with numerous Marathi manuscripts under Maratha rulers like Serfoji II. These texts spanned subjects from administration and religious discourses to science and art, showcasing the language's adaptability and intellectual depth. Marathi thus became a tool not just of governance but of scholarly and cultural exchange, linking Thanjavur to other parts of the Maratha Empire.
Economically, Marathi-speaking administrators and merchants played a vital role in organizing Thanjavur’s thriving agricultural and trade systems. With Marathi serving as a common language among traders from Maharashtra and Tamil Nadu, it facilitated seamless transactions and collaborations, particularly in the fertile Cauvery Delta. The influence of Marathi in trade agreements and contracts ensured that the language became an integral part of the region’s commercial lexicon.
Even in daily life, Marathi words crept into the local Tamil vernacular, particularly in areas of governance, trade, and the arts. Terms such as "khānde" (cannon) and "wāghya" (tiger, also a performer in traditional practices) became commonplace, reflecting the Maratha imprint on the cultural lexicon. Similarly, Marathi names for agricultural techniques and irrigation systems highlighted the practical influence of the language.
They say Pune embodies the soul and spirit of Marathi, a language so witty and sarcastic that even the city’s signboards are more savage than polite; the signboards feel like they have been written by stand-up comedians moonlighting as simple kakas and kaku’s running their businesses. Where else would you see a board that might as well say, “If your photograph does not look good, don’t blame us, blame your parents? For even funnier ones, you may go down this funny Reddit Thread. This sharp Puneri humor isn’t just a quirk; it’s a reflection of how deeply language shapes identity. Marathi’s reach, thanks to the Maratha Empire’s vastness, has embedded this wit and charm far and wide. It’s not just a language, it’s a way of life, structuring the socio-economic fabric of regions while keeping things undeniably, unapologetically Marathi.