Eat to Nourish the Body, not for the Taste!

 When I first came to Delhi in 2016, I asked my daughter’s North Indian cook to make chapatis for dinner. What she served me was thick like leather and was not the chapathi I had visualized. It was thick and was what we call rotis in the South. Later I realized that in the North ‘rotis’ mean ‘phulkas’ and the chapatis I had wanted is actually called parathas in Delhi. A simple recipe consumed all over India, with just a few ingredients - wheat flour, salt, oil and water- assumes different avatars and different names in various parts of India. Just as the Indian pizza is very different from the Italian pizza or the Chinese chowmein is quite a stranger to the chowmein served in Indian restaurants so also every food item in the World incarnates in unusual ways in different parts of the World.

The Indian cuisine is as varied as the World cuisine due to its diversity (from Kashmir to Kanyakumari or Arunachal Pradesh to Gujarat) of geography (soil, climate and crop availability of grains, millets, fruits, vegetables as also the spices and herbs), culture (ethnic groups & occupation) and religion. Within each region, there is again a mind-boggling variety dictated by caste, customs and traditions, e.g. in Tamilnadu, the Chettinad cuisine is quite different from the Brahmin cuisine. In the past when communication and transport were restricted, you could not even dream of eating food from any area other than your immediate neighbourhood. Within the region, every family standardizes the recipes in different ways to suit the requirements of the various members of the family. Very often the cuisine is a blend of the methods followed by the mother and the mother-in-law of the homemaker. Often men mistakenly think it’s a compliment when they tell their wives “Your sambhar/chole is exactly the same as my mother’s”,  little realizing that the statement for some women may be like a red rag waved in front of a bull.   The cooking process also changes from one generation to the other for various reasons. 

An individual’s acceptance depends on the enjoyment he/she derives from the food being eaten. That level of satisfaction will depend upon the ambience of the environment, his/her physiological status (i.e., hunger, thirst, and presence/absence of illness), related factors like a method of serving and others but the most important factor is the prior experience, which will determine his anticipation. If you had eaten jasmine soft idlis when you were younger, then chances are you will want similar idlis later in life.   

The prior experience will depend on personal, cultural, social, religious, economic, environmental, and even political factors, which determines the cuisine that he/she is accustomed to. The Keralites, for example, were not amused when beef was ostracized by the ruling party recently since they have consumed it without taboo from times unknown. The cuisine varies according to various cultures, geographic availability of foods and the customs, traditions, which dictate the ingredients, used as also the methods of cooking. The cuisine is not static but evolves over time assuming different forms at different times and places.

My mother, as well as my mother-in-law, lived with us during the end of their life. Both the ladies were not happy with my cooking though my children and husband had no complaints. My mother-in-law’s complaints I could understand since my cooking (South Indian style but with inputs from Andhra and North Indian cuisine) was quite different from her ways of cooking (typical Chennai non-Brahmin cooking). I could not understand why my mother complained since she had taught me cooking when I was young and it was South Indian cuisine with inputs from North India and some Andhra cuisine. My mother-in-law was not as vociferous as my mother since, by the time she came to my home, she was not mobile. My mother, on the other hand, was quite active and wanted to cook but after one or two instances of her forgetting to switch off the stove, I refused to allow her that freedom so she grumbled endlessly about my cooking till her last day. Now I have reached their stage of life and stay with my daughter. I have the same complaints about cooking in my daughter’s house that those two ladies had with me in my house. I am usually very adaptable (even if I say so) having lived in various hostels during the course of my studies so as a Nutritionist, I wanted to know why?

Several studies do point to the fact that Physiological, Psychological and sociological changes due to ageing, affect food acceptance and habits of elderly people. The physiological factors include a change in dentition, hearing, smell and taste apart from general health and changes in gastrointestinal system. Quite apart from this, Edfors and Albert Westergren (2012) reported the following feedback from the geriatric subjects they studied – “food for us, elderly people is probably supposed to be cooked with care, but it happens that some food is not properly cooked; Now that I have reached this age, I should be allowed to… have things I like, and not… food that makes me think: ‘Ugh, what is that, that’s no good’.” 

Most old people describe a longing for appetizing meals and often they long for the traditional foods that they were accustomed to during their younger days. Another factor that needs to be considered is that in most cases the older ladies have always been gatekeepers of what the family eats and enjoyed the role. However, as they age and cannot cook, they feel the control slipping away. They are unable to do the little tricks they used to make the food more attractive and appetizing – my mother always added a dollop of ghee to the upma she made, to make it smell fragrant and non-sticky. Others may not be able to control the dollop size the way she could. As was said earlier, every individual adds his/her own spell to the recipe which makes it unique. There are certain recipes which they ate when they were younger but the recipe is not known to the younger generation or cannot be prepared. My mother-in-law wanted to have “Dried fish curry” but living in a Brahmin neighbourhood, I could not oblige her until a colleague very kindly got it made by her mother at her house. And in the modern world, where many career women depend upon paid help or take away food from restaurants, it is not easy to satisfy the taste buds of older people. Men especially can become very vociferous because they have always been pampered by their wives, who tried their best to imply, "your every word is my command”.

There is no easy solution to this problem. It will do a world of good to remember that the human tongue is only 3-3.5 inches. Once the food crosses the tongue and enters the oesophagus, all food is the same – a blend of nutrients to keep the body healthy. Eat to nourish the body and not for the taste!

 

Singing in the Rain

 

After having been down in the dumps with the Lockdown blue, I woke up this morning to the lovely sound of refreshing rains beating down on our balcony.  My grandson, who is a great rain lover came rushing in to sit on my lap and watch the rain. He was so happy that poems kept tumbling out of his mouth in a steady stream – some learnt at school and some created by him at the moment. As he reluctantly moved away for his online classes, I continued to watch the rain with a cup of hot tea as I completed the latest book by Daniel Silva. I could hear the disembodied voices of teachers taking online classes in my neighbouring flats, my daughter and son-in-law getting ready for their work, and maids chattering on the street as they hurried to reach their work spot and that is when I realized how lucky I was.  My mind travelled back to all those rainy days when I could not afford to sit back and enjoy the rains though my heart yearned to do so –

As a child, I could not watch the pitter-patter of rain from my mother’s cosy lap, because she had so much work.

As a schoolgirl, I had to get out of the snug comfort of bed to trudge through the muddy roads to reach school.

As an adolescent, I had to give up the pleasures of rain so I could study to be a success in life.

As an unmarried adult, I could not afford the luxury of watching the rain or the grey skies because deadlines were always looming over the horizon.  I could not afford to get wet, in case I fell sick and had to miss work.

As a mother, there was never any time to play with your children floating paper boats in puddles or simply stand and watch the rain. One always worried about washed clothes (especially uniforms) that wouldn’t dry, absconding maids and children getting wet and falling sick.

As you cross 60, you are cautioned about getting wet and catching pneumonia.

I realize that most women do not have the luxury of enjoying the rainy season all their lives. Can you see a woman in real life singing as did Nargis with Raj Kapoor in Awaara?  Julie Andrews lists “Raindrops on roses” as a favourite thing but for most women only the thorn of the rose is available. If a woman dances as Debbie Reynolds did in “Singing in the Rain” either her mother or her husband or someone in the family would call her foolish.

As a retired person I do not have any of these worries. I do not have any of these worries. I can, at last, do what I want …..Wait! Is that my daughter warning me about sitting in the draught? Asking me to get out of the balcony and the damp air?

 

Do we deserve Independence?

 

The freedom that was to be attained with violence

was secured  by Gandhiji and his ilk through non-violence.

That is why the independence is taken for granted!

That is why independence is not appreciated!

Freedom came at midnight.                                 

So it never dawned for many!

We secured independence from the Britishers

 but handed it over to robbers and plunderers!

The independence, secured by the sacrifice of patriots,

is being slandered in urban coffeeshops 

by the idle Burger munching progeny of free India.

Yet we are unable to do anything about it!

On that first Independence Day, after the flag hoisting when Jawaharlal Nehru was about to 

leave the venue, a young man stopped his car and asked, “You hoisted the flag to declare 

that India is free but what did that independence do for me?” Nehru was not provoked by the 

tempestuous young man but replied calmly, “Is it not that independence; is it not that 

freedom, which gives you the right to waylay and question the Prime Minister of the country?”

 A country, which was incapable of making even a safety pin is now producing jet planes.

The country, which depended on wheat imported from America & milk powder from Australia,

has now achieved self-reliance by increasing its food production 

(through its Green and other revolutions). 

The food so produced is sufficient not only to feed its citizens but also 

to feed other countries of the world.

Empowered by Independence, India has succeeded in replacing its dirt roads

with four-lane and eight-lane highways. 

Education, which necessitated long treks by children, has come within their arm’s length. 

Thus have the benefits of Independence reached the common man!

There may be imperfections – corruption may be rampant but

don't we have the freedom of the Ballot to replace the corrupt?

India is not a poor country; it is a country with poor people;

it is a country with unlimited resources. 

Indians may have access to limited resources but their resourcefulness 

fondly referred to as jugaad is beyond compare.

Let us pledge to take India to greater heights!

(Inspired by Pavalamani Pragasam's post on Facebook) 

Parents – Children’s Cheerleaders

An excited 6 yrs old Kannan ran out to the sunny balcony, thrilled to see the round red sun in the horizon.  Just as he was telling his grandma, “Look! Look, Ammamma! The sun is looking like an orange, was this how it looked when Hanuman zoomed to catch it?” Even before he could complete his sentence, his mother Lakshmi came bustling up to him and said, “Come on, Come on, let’s run through “Suraj Chacha” once again. “Not again!” was Kannan’s reaction. There followed a 25 minutes exchange between the mother and the son during which she coaxed, cajoled, threatened and finally bribed him with the promise of a  doughnut if he recited the Hindi poem properly ….! All the joy of seeing the orange sun evaporated as Kannan got ready to recite “Suraj Chacha” during the Hindi online class (not his favourite at most times) under the gimlet eyes of his mother.

I am quite sure this is happening in many Indian homes today thanks to the online classes (an offshoot of the Corona pandemic and subsequent Lockdown) which are being beamed directly to the homes, exposing the teacher, the children and their parents to each other. Classes are taking place five days a week and to benefit from these classes, students are using a variety of devices.

A virtual survey was conducted between Friday, May 15 and Sunday, May 17, 2020, to assess the experience of 5 - 18 yrs, old school children, using a questionnaire of about 40 questions, distributed through WhatsApp and email. Data received from 155 students across 13 states evenly distributed across the country, revealed that 87.2% of the respondents are studying in private-run schools and only 12.8% are either from the Centre and state-run government or government-aided schools. During these classes parents, who are required to be around children during the session (especially of the younger children) face the greatest challenge. This also poses another problem for the children since the parents cannot be just observers but try to become loco magister or adjunct teacher.

A survey of more than 1800 Australian parents and guardians by Australian Scholarships Group and Monash University indicated that 80 per cent of Indian as well as other Asian parents have high expectations for their child’s educational accomplishments. According to Bapat, urban Indian parenting practices mostly belong to the class known as "helicopter parenting", "hover-parenting" or "intensive parenting” characterized by deep involvement in every aspect of their education, extra-curricular activities and free time. Such parents do not assist in the development of their children’s freedom since they tend to supervise, help or control their schoolwork, tasks at home as well as their social interactions physically or mentally. Indian parents, in general, get hyper about their children’s academic performance.

In the pre-Corona days the children escaped this helicopter parenting during their school hours though the mothers and sometimes the fathers exhorted them to be “first in the class” though they know full well that all the children cannot be first in the class and someone has to take the second, third and other places. Earlier their skills of the 3Rs, asking and answering questions, reciting or orating were witnessed by their classmates and teacher – with whom they were comfortable. Their performance would vary according to their mood, physical conditions and other factors.

                                 

Now their performance is under scrutiny being watched as they are by their parent, other parents, classmates and teacher, who cannot even offer encouraging smiles (as happens in a typical classroom situation). The child would surely experience stage fear but some stressed parents start berating the child about every mistake he may have made. This upbraiding of the child is due to their high expectations aggravated by watching other children, who may have performed better as also by the common syndrome of “keeping up with the Joneses”. 

If the parents are not supportive, it may leave an everlasting scar on the children’s psyche. It is important for parents to realize that they are not meant to be homeschoolers in conjunction with the teacher who is the guiding force in the subject matter. A parent should know when to bend in and bend out of their child’s learning experience. Parents should be the greatest boosters and motivators of their children.  

“Child development does not mean developing your child into the person you think they 

should be, but helping them develop into the best person they are meant to be.”

                                                                          ― Toni Sorenson

Come, Savour the Many Indian Books

About fifty years back “Gone with the Wind”, "Jane Eyre" and Anna Karenina” were three books that all young women were advised – Nay! Exhorted to read!. Very few such wise and sensible ideas are given to the younger generation nowadays. More is the pity! Books (to repeat a well-known adage are the best friends a man, woman or child can have. Books provide company, offer consolation and serve as confidantes! They do not get offended, they need not go away and yet they continue to delight one in whatever mood one may be in, without encroaching! The earliest books were developed by the Egyptians, who stuck together individual papyrus sheets to form a long scroll, with rollers attached on either end so that one could furl one roller while unfurling the other. In China, India and other oriental countries, narrow strips of wood or leaf were tied together with cords to create ‘books’.

In Assyria sheets of wax dyed yellow, framed in wood or ivory and inscribed with a bone or bronze stylus were hinged on one side to make a fan-folded book. The Romans used to parchment paper and later most of ancient Europe began to create books with parchment or vellum(made from animal hide) with a backing of leather. The discovery of paper in 105A.D is ascribed to a Chinese courtier named Ts’ai Lun. Production of book was still a laborious process since it had to be done painstakingly by hand. Books were rare and not everyone could possess one. The discovery and development of the printing technique by Guttenberg took the tedium out of bookmaking and books became available for all and sundry. Indians were lucky because they have the best of both the Worlds – English Literature, the legacy of the British and the books of their forefathers. Ramacharitmanas (Hindi), Silappadikkaram(Tamil), Kanyasulkam(Telugu), Chemmeen (Malayalam) are a few gems that come to one’s mind but by no means is this list representative or exhaustive. The list of inspiring and scintillating books in the Indian languages is unending. It would be a worthwhile exercise to acquire at least a reading knowledge of one’s mother tongue(obligatory) and as many other Indian languages as possible in order to taste the nectar that is at hand but not difficult to get at because one has not made the effort.

 “Reading a book is only the first step in the relationship. The contents of someone’s bookcase are a part of his /her history like an ancestral portrait.”-  Anatole Bryand

Do make the effort to enrich your history!

Malathi’s Marriage published in the Women's Era magazine (March 2014)

“Twinkling bulbs and beautiful flowers have turned this place into a veritable fairy land,” thought the septuagenarian Sundari as she stepped out of the car at the entrance of the hall, where her eldest granddaughter Malathi’s wedding was to be performed.  The alley from the well-decorated entrance to the portico was covered with beautiful, huge rangolis – all lovingly drawn by her friends and relatives. As was common in the grand weddings of Chennai, machines vending popcorn, cotton candy, cold cocoa, ice cream and instant coffee were lined up all along one side of the spacious portico. Children were already busy playing in the inflatable castle-shaped jumping bag assisted by attendants dressed up as Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. All these paraphernalia were unheard of when she was young but now no wedding was complete without these. She saw her four younger grandchildren, all dressed in their traditional best, welcoming the wedding guests. After one eagle-eyed supervisory round of the kitchen, dining room and the groom’s quarters, she settled down to oversee the bride’s  make up. Though outwardly calm, the worry about the unfulfilled demand of the groom’s party niggled at her mind.

“Amma, where are you? Come quickly, Ravi is at the entrance and it looks as if he is here to create trouble. The groom’s party will be here very soon. Hurry up only you can handle him,” Kumar, her eldest son called out.  As she hastened after Kumar, many guests tried to stop her with their congratulations. 

 “What a grand wedding and that too for a niece! Kumar and Nataraj are indeed very good sons and do you know……….”  Sundari smiled at them vaguely as she rushed after Kumar.

Though her body followed her eldest son mechanically, her mind traveled back twenty two years to the black day when her pregnant daughter Parvathi, brutally beaten by her alcoholic husband Ravi had come for refuge to her father’s house late at night. A repentant Ravi had come to their house the very next day with apologies and promises but Sundari had no time for him. Parvathi had been so badly beaten that she needed ten stitches on her face and hospitalization for four days.  When she was discharged from hospital, Sundari brought her home and nursed her back to health. With in a few days, Malathi was born prematurely and needed extra medical care. 

For three months as is the South Indian custom, Sundari and her family looked after Parvathi and Malathi. It was during this period that Sundari extracted the whole story about her son-in-law’s alcoholic habits and understood how patient Parvathi had been in her marital house. She realized that her daughter, although just a matriculate had tried all methods from rituals to rehabilitation to cure her husband of his addiction. She had spent money unstintingly, even to the extent of pawning her jewels but to no avail. Every little event - be it a happy one or a sad one - was an excuse for him to drink. 

Her mother-in-law defended her son saying, “Men are usually like that and it is up to us women to adjust. Drinking is in Ravi’s genes, even his father was an inveterate drunkard, who used to beat me and he continued to do so until he died in a drunken brawl.” 

 Parvathi had borne all the sufferings because she knew that her family led a very hard life and that her wedding had all but wiped out their savings so she did not want to add to their burdens. When Sundari spoke about this to her family their reaction was, “What can we do? It is Parvathi’s fate. She has to adjust.” 

At the end of three months, when Ravi came with his mother to take his wife and child back home, Sundari refused to send her daughter back. Sundari’s husband, her two sons and their wives were aghast at her decision.  Her husband Murugesh thundered at her, “Are you mad, Woman? Do you want to ruin your daughter’s life? How can she stay here away from her husband? What will people say? Who will respect our family? We will be ostracized from the community. Have you taken leave of your senses?”

Kumar, her eldest son said, “Amma, Ravi is only a drunkard; he is not a womanizer or a drug addict. May be Parvathi is responsible for Ravi’s drinking? Is it not the wife’s responsibility to guide and change her husband. Have you not heard of Kannagi and how she changed her husband?”

“Amma, you are right no doubt but just think of the little Malathi. What will you do when she asks for her father? Won’t children taunt her in school that she has no father? When she grows up who will marry a fatherless girl?” asked her younger son, the recently married Nataraj. His wife nodded in agreement with him while looking at Parvathi with sympathy. 

The elder daughter–in-law Kumari always soft spoken and supportive of Sundari asked,” What will our relatives say if Parvathi becomes a vaazhaveti (abandoned woman)? She will have no status in our community? She will not be allowed to participate in auspicious functions.”  Behind her statement lay the fear of how they were going to feed two extra mouths on the income, from the offset printing press a family concern, which was barely enough for a hand to mouth existence. 

In face of all this opposition, Sundari was very stubborn and steadfast in her decision.  Ravi and his mother were shocked at the turn of events and tried to appease them but Sundari refused to change her mind. They retreated with threats of court case and panchayat action. Nothing came of it since the recalcitrant Ravi now drank to forget the sorrow caused by separation from his wife and the mother could do nothing without his help. Sundari had acted decisively and called for a meeting of their community panchayat and made the separation official and formal. 

 Sundari’s husband stopped talking with her, her sons argued with her on every issue; the daughters-in-law grew rebellious and grumpy while her daughter cried eternally as if there was a spring in her eyes. The only human being unaffected by all this chaos was little Malathi, who with her sunny smiles and happy disposition charmed everyone from her grouchy grandpa to the irritable youngest aunt. Parvathi soon recovered her equanimity and started helping her sisters-in-law with the household work and slowly won their hearts by her sweet nature and generosity of spirit. 

Sundari approached a local Apparel Unit and persuaded them to employ Parvathi initially as a cleaner and requested them to train her gradually for stitching or any other suitable skill. Within two years Parvathi was earning enough to support herself and her daughter. The neighbours’ stares and taunts were gradually replaced by sympathy as they observed Parvathi’s docile nature and her sincere efforts to support herself and her daughter.

Sundari realized that her daughter’s meager salary would never pay for her growing granddaughter’s needs so she involved herself in their family business of printing much against her husband’s wishes.  Her innate business sense coupled with her understanding of human nature helped them to improve their business and profits, which began as a trickle but soon turned into a steady flow assuring them of a comfortable though not luxurious life style. 

After Murugesh’s death, Sundari controlled the expanding family with iron hands in velvet gloves. She managed to keep the family together in spite of their personal jealousies and rivalry with tact and diplomacy.   She was blessed with four grandchildren by the sons and as the business improved they were able to build a small two bedroom house. Sundari and the rest of the family believed that their fortunes had changed due to Malathi’s luck.

Sundari, ever aware of her responsibility towards Malathi, encouraged her to study well and the girl did not disappoint her grandmother. After completing her graduation she secured a good job through campus interview and enrolled for M.B.A through distance mode. For the last two years her grandmother had invested Malathi’s salary wisely to assemble the trousseau for her wedding.  

Malathi readily agreed to the alliance that her uncles brought for her and the uncles were happy because this marriage would elevate their status in society and make it easier for their children to settle well in life. Malathi’s in-laws belonged to a well-to-do family and agreed to this marriage due to pressure from their only son Madan who was nearing thirty but had been refusing to get married until he met Malathi by chance. They had yielded to his pressure only because they were impressed by Malathi’s amiable nature as also the sincerity and integrity of her uncles.  They were dissatisfied that Malathi’s family was not in a position to include a pair of diamond earrings in the bride’s trousseau but Madan did not yield. Sundari was worried as to whether that would cause a problem later but was in no position at present to fulfill that particular requirement. 

Since it was the first wedding in the family and Malathi was their blue eyed darling, the uncles organized a lavish function, a little beyond their means. Everyone was full of praises for the arrangements and now this unforeseen problem of Ravi had cropped up. Recollecting her past experiences with Ravi, Sundari was worried about the scene he would create and the effect it would have on Malathi’s in-laws, who were very particular about their prestige and position in society. 

As she neared the entrance she saw the worried faces of her daughters-in-law but was relieved to see that Parvathi was nowhere around. Kumar took her to the ante room where she found an emaciated, unkempt Ravi sitting on a chair with his head on the table. She assumed that he was drunk as usual and said tersely,” Why have you come? You ruined my daughter’s life; have you come now to ruin my grand daughter’s life?”

With trembling hands, Ravi held out a bundle tied up in a dirty piece of cloth and said in a surprisingly clear and steady voice, “I will not come into her life or your life hereafter – my days on this earth are numbered as I have liver cancer. I could not have given my daughter the type of life you have given her or the type of wedding your sons are performing for her. Today you have proved that if a woman wills it she can achieve anything in life. This is the last piece of my mother’s jewellery, which she wanted her grandchild to have. Please give it to Malathi.” With that he walked out of the wedding venue without even a single backward glance. 

Sundari was stunned and could not believe her eyes, when she opened the bundle to find a pair of the traditional diamond earrings twinkling at her.