CURRENT ISSUE
Essays by Sangeetha Bhaskaran | Debmalya Bandyopadhyay | Babli Yadav
Volume 4 | Issue 3 [July2024]
Please Can I Have Some More: My Troubled Relationship with Food Portions
Volume 4 | Issue 3 | July 2024]
I was irritated after the dinner party. Or more like, hangry. After hours of chatting and drinking wine, our hosts served us measly portions of dal, chawal, and chicken curry at midnight. I shovelled spoons into my mouth and glared at my husband ā they were his friends after all. I couldnāt enjoy the meal; all I kept thinking was ā How could they call us over and feed us so little?
Food portions are a trigger and bring out the worst in me. I grew up in a home where more was better than enough, witnessing women stir large aluminium vats of curries and rice and deep fry snacks that could feed a battalion. They never asked you how much fish you wanted to eat before frying or counted how many…
Chicken Curry
Volume 4 | Issue 3 | July 2024]
He chuckled dryly. The come back came with its little sting, a small snag between them. It was way too soon to be thinking of returning after the PhD. Besides, the task at hand was to learn the secret to a perfect chicken curry. Trying to divert the conversation towards less pressing things, he asked about the way she maneuvered the flat ladle or adjusted the heat. Patiently answering all his queries, Dida wiped the sweat off her forehead with the hem of her saree. His eyes followed the swift movement of her hand and stopped at the wrinkles on her forehead. An ache bubbled up like a gravy simmering, the come back having added to the stinging kitchen heat. Dida handed him the ladle and asked him to stir, making sure the veggies didnāt burn…
Peechhey Ki Roti?
Volume 4 | Issue 3 | July 2024]
My mother was born in a family of eight children in a small village close to Shikohabad, a few kilometres away from the town of Firozabad, famous for glass work especially bangles. Out of the five daughters and three sons, she stood at number six. The first ever time she travelled by train was after marrying my father at the age of 19. Her first, my fatherās second.
When I became a mother at the age of 30, my mother came to live with me briefly. Very briefly. Unlike her own house where everything from cleaning to cooking to catering was her responsibility, here, the work for her was near to none. During meal times, Iād often ask her to help herself toĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā whatever she liked. To which sheād say, āYou serve me a little bit. What if…
