I could sniff the peas and rice pulao this morning when I strolled past my cabinet in the corridor of my department. I felt hungry immediately because of that tempting salty smell of cooked rice, as my breakfast contained 3 slices of tea cake and milk tea with cloves.
Retreating towards my house at the end of this working day, I forgot that temptation, as it was necessary to boil milk and complete some other work, since I am doing a lot without my domestic help. It is tiring but relieving; things are under control in my placement for now.
It was when I opened the refrigerator that I could smell the peas again.
I immediately cut the cauliflower into small pieces, diced the tomatoes, onions, and green chilies on the chopping board, and added the peas to the oil that was shallow-frying the fenugreek and mustard seeds. And with a little salt and rice added, my supper is ready.
I am having a mouthful along with writing my heart out for my readers.
“Much like gardening, most cooking manages to be agreeably absorbing without being too demanding intellectually. It leaves plenty of mental space for daydreaming and reflection.” – Michael Pollan
Winters feel more agreeable to me because they are quieter and cosier. It gets dark soon, which makes me sit for some time and think. Rumination can be a great exercise when you are alone and you do not want anything but to have good food that makes you think even more nonsensical stuff, but you are more indulged in cooking a great meal.
Meals should be on the planner for the day, shouldn’t they? I do not live to eat, but now it is a necessity. Having all sugars and processed food is impossible for me lately. My taste buds have changed for the better. I like the light kind of food containing a lot of vegetables.
I have been steaming food and frying rice with few spices so that I can taste the vegetables and avoid the excessive additions to them.
Sometimes, I crave either masala or sauces, or I desire sour cream poured over my rice. But I control.
Jokingly, I was thinking very deeply during cooking this evening, and here I am writing about my meals in a state of complete recovery from what I was thinking while cooking.
This is the kind of therapy I often need to get out of my head and do something good for myself.
Cooking for others was important for the former me, who enjoyed eating with a group of people around. It consumed my evenings in my hostel life. Now I have to eat for energy, but with self-love slowly inculcating, I have decided to put all that love into the food that I put into my mouth, which is watering for a lemonade now. I’ll prepare it after finishing up this piece.
I am growing tomatoes on my balcony. The bush has appeared in the vase, and the climate is apt for the cherry tomatoes to grow. I failed in this experiment last winter, though the seeds are good and safe in a dark and dry closet.
By the way, when you take care of the small stuff, bigger things automatically happen. It is a relief that some fear of uncertain events has lessened and I am doing well with my intellectual pursuits.
No one tangible is interested in or bothers me, and I don’t have to bother them either. Avoidance. This is the new dictum. There is no need for the congenial greetings that I offered to people as a necessary obligation.
With such a state of affairs, I have rediscovered myself. It isn’t that my liveliness has reduced. On the contrary, I have taken up things and grown professionally by cutting down my expectations from people.
Usually feeling like this leads to depression, but I am becoming productive and bold with every sunset. I do not depend on others anymore.
I can take an academic trip to another station, deal with my job, and clear my doubts through pondering over stuff. My originality has returned, and I live more authentically. I do not spend excessively and keep to things that matter.
Here is the moral of this brief story: There exists magnanimity if you have the receptive eyes to see it. You might seem depressive and abandoned to onlookers, but you have started to enjoy a peaceful and clean life. It is simply addictive. I take up hardships deliberately now so that I do not get used to the comfort when I have enough time to do things that I want to, despite working hard for 8-9 hours on a daily basis. And certainly, I cook my sumptuous suppers and enjoy them. One of my seniors suggested regular cooking and also a roommate asked me to eat alone many years ago. I realize this is the way. I don’t have to look for company to eat. I am my own pleasant company.
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