by Bindiya Bedi Charan Noronha
I cannot recall the last best meal I had. Covid crisis has dulled my memory of gastronomic experiences. It is as if my conscience is pushing me to forget indulgence. I am almost feeling guilty about enjoying epicurean delights. Occasionally a birthday pops up and drives me to order something. It’s painful to feel too much. Maids have lost jobs; gyms are closed. Salons have shut their doors. I keep wondering about the small workers who are not represented in any talk show. Disheartened at night, in the morning, I bounce back by praying enthusiastically for the world to be Covid free.
Today, I woke to the sound of water beating down the AC outside the window. My heart shouted out silently to welcome the monsoon. Even though the torrential rain has pulled a big branch out of my favorite Gulmohar tree, my spirits are buoyant. It has blocked the road in front of my gate. Ah! Just as well. Less traffic, less noise, let the rain be the boss today. Glancing at the headlines of the newspaper makes my heart sink. The increasing poverty is pushing up the crime rate. My phone beeps incessantly to break my reverie. An exciting message from a friend announces her new home food venture. The incessant rain reminds me of hot sambhar and Idli. My son is visiting, and my husband is at home too. I must order something.
India is a land of contrasts. Being in the North, eating out means butter chicken, daal makhani, mutton rogan josh. My son did his schooling in the South of India. So, the aroma of rasam and sambhar finds itself coming to me whenever I feel wistful. My trips to his school were idyllic. Walking on the wet, muddy paths, with umbrellas, avoiding snakes, our sandalled feet taking the color of red mud, we ran to the dining hall for hot, freshly cooked meals. Sambhar was a given, with rice, rasam, buttermilk – the regular companions. Then there were other vegetables, rotis, dessert and more.
The dining hall was noisy with excited children, overseen by the matrons, who made sure they had a nutritious, balanced meal. The older kids enjoyed their independence and ate as they pleased. Eating on a banana leaf was strange for me. I thought of hundreds of banana trees losing their leaves to be used as faux plates. Parents, teachers, visiting intellectuals, professors congregated at mealtimes, and lively conversation ensued. After meals, we washed our dishes or discarded the banana leaves, and the kids went back to their routine day at school. The hot afternoon was siesta time, followed by Asthachal, a great evening practice of watching the sunset in meditative silence. The sun rays filtering through the iconic hills of Rishi Valley gave a surreal effect, with the whole Valley becoming quiet. One could hear only the birds chirping getting back to their nests, the gentle wind fanning across the Valley, the fragrance of the flowers, and the noise of the night insects beginning to get loud and croaking of the toads in the nearby pond. Ah, what a feeling it was! To experience it was magical, and no words are good enough to describe it.
I sat down to enjoy the hot sambhar and Podi Idli from my friend’s new cloud kitchen. Tiny idlis coated with masala gave me hope. It is time to support small businesses. By increasing productivity, jobs will be created, and more opportunities will open. Dreaming on behalf of my friend, I write this article and make posts to spread the word. With a bit of effort and research, I can make Podi Idli too. But it makes me happy to order from home chefs and tip the delivery guy, who grins happily in the drizzle and says Thank you, Ma’am. I celebrate the monsoon with his smile.
About the Author:
Bindiya Bedi Charan Noronha is the author of the book “Dream Keeper: A Poetography Ensemble” (www.binko.in). Her poetry, short stories, articles have been published in various anthologies and magazines. She is a linguist, works at a diplomatic mission in New Delhi, is involved in many social initiatives.
Nicely written. A good read!
Thank you!
Awwessoommee .. love the way you have strung words to give a real aromatic & visual experience in my mind. I could visualise the Rishi Valley School & meditative sunset experience. Love your linguistic & crative ability to pen down so ardently your thoughts & feelings??
Thank you Surbhi! I am glad you could picturise the scene.
Very well written as always Bindiya! And yes, took me back to the wonderful days spent at Rishi Valley!
Yes such wonderful times. Thank you.
Just loved the writeup…was actually walking on the wet muddy roads with the aroma of Podi idli
Wonderful read.. as it’s written with your innate ease with words ! Félicitations!
So beautifully penned….:)
Super. Very well written. Interesting