“Kitchen is not safe.
Our lives are ruined within its wall.
We are enslaved in it.
We will never cook again…”
Screamed and decided
A few women.
Slogans rose, march-pasts shook the streets.
It was the beginning of a revolution.
The fire in the house was never lit again.
Kitchens are closed and later, demolished.
They clapped & rejoiced.
Men couldn’t do much
as womanpower could do a lot…
Every street there rose food counters,
Like those swiggy-zomato.
Food travelled from those counters
To each homes.
Houses were built kitchen-less.
Women relaxed and enjoyed.
They didn’t know what to do
With those saved time-to-cook.
The new culture got adapted slowly.
But the children missed the food
Prepared, served & fed by their moms,
They missed the aroma,
They missed the sight of transformation
Of ingredients to the cooked food in plate.
They wanted to see pooris fluffing in oil,
They wanted to see coconuts being grated
They wanted to be beside their mothers
While they grind, chop and roast.
They liked seeing spreading dosas,
Rolling chapathis and squeezing juices.
They liked to draw the icings on cakes.
They liked making lizards with atta-dough.
They missed everything associated with
The process of cooking.
Many weeks passed so.
Then slowly it all started to change.
Health started diminishing.
Lifestyle diseases increased,
Medical bills shoot up,
Pharmas & healthcare industries boomed.
Food could no longer satisfy the taste buds.
It could never subside the appetite too,
Something was missing.
None knew what to do.
None could cure the state of unwell-ness.
Then, one day, an old woman arrived,
“Shhh she’s a healer”, said someone.
She said, “I know the reason for your misery.
The food lack one ingredient.”
She revealed that ingredient.
“And It can be added
only if the food is prepared at
by the hands of a family member.”
People thought, let’s try this,
After all, they had no choice.
Thus each home started lighting the fire,
And vegetables were chopped
Noise of vessels wakened the walls.
The smell of cooking filled the home
The smoke from each kitchen
Food was cooked and served.
The forgotten art of cooking was revived.
Taste buds were rejoiced.
People ate as though they have never eaten before.
Their stomachs were filled and were dancing-
Not just stomach, but their minds too.
They decided to continue
Doing the thing which they did now:
To cook- like their ancestors did.
They thought of thanking
the old woman healer,
She wasn’t there…
She left looking for another place
where people needed her.
Now, oh my dear reader,
it’s your turn, can you guess,
what was that magic ingredient,
which the old woman had taught
to add to food?