A tryst with hunger

Food cooked by mother ‘Maa ke haath ki roti’  is cherished by all but mostly at times when it is not available. I remember we siblings were fussy eaters and used to complain that the food served is not tasty. “The taste resides not at tongue but is nurtured in stomach where hunger and appetite flourish to make anything tasty, wait for some time and come on the dining table only when hunger in you controls your tongue” was her usual reply and advice. At that time we used to reject such comments thinking that our mother was trying excuses for flaws in her culinary traits.

 I feel she was right to a larger extent. Anything can be mouth watering, relishing, and sumptuous if it is tried at the right time when strong signals from stomach are beamed to mind, which in turn directs the tongue to respond accordingly.

A few years back when construction of my house was on, I used to prefer brunch to escape the hassle of rushing home for lunch and then coming back. One day I could not have heavy breakfast and had to rush to my college. The hectic schedule did not allow me to have even the routine tea break. By the time the college was over, I was hungry enough and vied for a full fledged lunch. But the schedule at the construction site demanded my presence there. Hence ignoring the call of hunger I rushed to the site where I found the mason desperately waiting for me to finalise some improvisation. The sparks of hunger by this time had got suitably ignited and I tried my best to bury them by keeping myself engaged in the activity.

 Only then I witnessed a labourer having his lunch in one corner. The menu of lunch was three or four thick and dry chapattis, an onion, two green chillies and a dibba  (container)of lassi (Buttermilk). The menu might not be attractive for others but it sent waves of envy to my hungry stomach and my mouth literally got watered at the sight of him biting the roti with the salt coated onion and a sip of lassi. I considered him extremely lucky to be enjoying such sumptuous lunch. He hesitantly offered me what he had and said “ Baboo ji yeh garibon ka khana hei aapko acha nahin lagega”( Sir this poor man’s food, you may not like it). Perhaps he could not read what was going in my mind and mouth. I felt like requesting him for a part of that cuisine but my false economic and social status restricted me. The hunger in me compelled me to rush back to home for lunch. I directed my wife to serve dry, thick rotis with only onion and green chillies. She amazingly looked in my eyes and tried to read the backdrop of it. Despite her repeated insistence to have the routine subji and dal I compelled her to serve what I wanted. Three chapattis not that thick, an onion, two green chillies and a small heap of salt in my thali was finally served. I like a hungry jackal pounced upon that. My wife and children kept looking at me amazingly but they also seemed to be enjoying my behaviour. As I was about to give finishing touches to my most enjoyable and relishing food, my son requested me to let him also taste this never tried menu. I proudly obliged him with a part of the delicacy. His instant reaction was “It is tasty beyond expectations but I cannot have it in my school lunch box”. The status perhaps did not spare the children too. Nevertheless thanks to that labourer for very subtly providing place to this delicacy in our routine menu

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DR. SANJEEV TRIKHA