When some of us will down a cup of instant coffee while others painstakingly hand-grind their own beans, it begs the question: is coffee primarily valued for its taste or its energizing properties? The answer may be neither: like the social-lubricating alcohol, coffee's importance may lie in drinking in the company of friends and enemies. Pasha M. Khan describes the Indo-Persian coffeehouse as a natural home for storytellers, where the oily coffee may have been less than delicious, but did the trick of keeping coffeehouse patrons up for the night as they passed the hours together. Yes, like alcohol, coffee was originally used at nighttime, not during the day.
There are numerous origin stories for our coffee-drinking habit. Despite the misconception that coffee originated in South America, unlike chocolate, chilies, and potatoes, the coffee plant comes from Ethiopia. It is told that an old Dervish (sufi practitioner) from Yemen had gone to visit the origin, and as he parted he was given the beans of the coffee plant as a gift. When he got sick after returning back home, he decided, as one does, to boil those mystery beans and drink the resulting liquid. He quickly got a burst of energy and was highly pleased with his newfound cure, if not for his illness, at least for its accompanying lethargy. The drink soon spread to Sufi gatherings, where devotees would chant the names of God and engage in social devotional practices throughout the night.
Of course, as grumpy old jurists tend to do, there quickly came a slew of fatwas (legal opinions) against the use of coffee. It was quickly declared Haram (impermissible), but that stigma was largely ignored and did not last very long. Soon, the Ottoman Empire had adopted the drink as its own. It was considered so vital to daily life that, if a man could not provide his wife with sufficient coffee, her complaint was considered acceptable grounds for divorce.
As we know, coffee eventually spread to Iran, South Asia, Europe, and eventually, the entire world. Though chai is more known as the drink of choice in South Asia today, the popularity of coffee likely predated that of tea; it was only after British Colonists started creating plantations in Darjeeling and Assam that the milky beverage we now know as Indian chai became popular. As the temperature dropped after a long day in the heat of the subcontinent, men would often gather in coffeehouses instead of bars to chat with friends and recite caffeine-drunk poetry.
When chilly behaviour brings autumn to the world,
It is the Coffeepot who remains warm with us.
Its warm affection toward me is fitting
Since it has taken the measure of my drinking.
(From the Divan-zadah of Hatim, translation taken from Walter M. Hakala, p. 375)
While coffee today is the fuel of productivity, it was its social aspect that was favoured in precolonial South Asia. These cafes were associated with fantasy and revelry as patrons would pay an entry fee to go see a professional storyteller who would recite there each night. The genre of choice was the romantic epic: these were the original "masala films" where violence, intrigue, romance, and humour all came together to capture a diverse audience. Stories like the Hamzanama, an import from Iran, had some historical inspirations and a loose structure. Though many were eventually written down, the story was taken as little more than a framework for the storyteller's fancy. For example, Mir Amir Ali was famous for telling lover's tales to Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafur. One night, it seemed he had reached the point in the story for the lovers to consummate their love. But instead of getting to the point, Mir Amir Ali described the room, the lover's clothing, their emotions, and everything but the lovemaking. He continued this for a period of twelve years until Bahadur Shah was so frustrated that he commanded: "Today the curtain should be lifted!" and as far as we know, the Amir moved to the next part of the story (Pasha M. Khan p. 80).
Tales such as the Hamzanama, one of the most popular romantic epics, were so fantastical that it brought about scorn; both Babur, the first Mughal Emperor, and Abu'l Fazl, Akbar's biographer, were unimpressed with the tale. Babur in his memoirs declared it as "contrary to good taste and sound reason." Dragons, demons, and faeries all made appearances in the Hamzanama, but this was not outside of the established literary tradition. The Hamzanama and other South Asian romances continue tropes that go back to the Shahnameh, Iran's crowning literary jewel from pre-Islamic times. Not unlike the neverending TV series of today, the intrigue and fantasy of the tale would continue for years as storytellers would use cliffhangers to lure their audiences back to pay them a pittance. And so, night after night, men would pile into these coffeehouses to listen to a story, rather than curl up at home with Netflix as technology has permitted us (and in the advent of coronavirus, restricted us) to do today.
Unfortunately, as tea supplanted coffee in South Asia, so did the storytellers lose their appeal. An admirer of the great teller Mir Baqir Ali eventually found him selling pan (betel) and discount books. "Do you really sell betel nuts?" he asked, and with his storytelling jobs dwindling, Ali replied despondently: "Should I go and tell stories in the graveyard?" While South Asians abandoned the bitter dark topped with a slick of oil that they enjoyed in the coffeehouse, so were the storytellers abandoned. But while gathering in a crowded room for a story, let us hope that, while the medium has changed, we can continue to appreciate the narratives that give life to our days and nights.
Further Reading:
The Broken Spell: Indian Storytelling and the Romance Genre in Persian and Urdu by Pasha M. Khan
Coffee and Coffeehouses: The Origins of a Social Beverage in the Medieval Near East by Ralph S. Hattox
The Adventures of Hamza: Painting and Storytelling in Mughal India by John Seyller
Credit to Ed Keall who taught me the history of coffee at the University of Toronto