The Thoughtful cook

I still remember my mother cooking food and chanting shlokas. I would try to sneak up to the kitchen to see what was cooking and maybe catch a whiff of the food. My mother, a smart lady would banish me from entering the kitchen until I was called for. The unsaid rule of the house was that only those who took bath were allowed inside the kitchen.

Looking back, I fondly reminiscence the learnings from my mother. Food at our home was always a divine gift. The process of cooking itself was an elaborate and celebrated event.

My mother would enter the kitchen after a bath and would first apply the vermillion on her forehead. It was followed by lighting the lamp and prostrating before the god. We would wake up to the smell of frankincense and the bell sound. The bell or ghanta was sounded when she first offered the boiled milk to the god. We would then get up to find her sitting outside the kitchen drinking her coffee. When she started her cooking, she started chanting some verses in Sanskrit.

I have learnt many shlokas from my mother as she chanted it. When the food was finally cooked, we always had a small ceremony each day, which included some shlokas, then keeping fresh flowers from the garden, followed by the incense and camphor. The end of the prayer ceremony was with prostrating before god. We then kept a small spoonful of rice to the birds and then proceeded to eat. We ate with delight the food that was prepared and there was no wasting of food. There used to be a bucket which was meant for the left-over food to be thrown in, to be fed to the cows.

Food was cooked twice or thrice in a day but the morning one was the most elaborate one. We got to eat fresh food every time. Most days we ate sattvic food which had no onion or no garlic. Locally sourced vegetables were mostly used. Each meal included greens from home, fresh vegetables and cooked ones with lentils. Fresh curds and buttermilk were in abundance.

We were not the money wealthy types but we were happiness wealthy types. We kids and dad started the food first and mother followed us after a few minutes. She served us the first course. Mornings were always busy and chaotic most days with us having our school and dad going to work. We ate a heavy meal each morning and carried something light for school.

I know many nutritionists today advice the other way around. To eat breakfast and then lunch followed by snack and then early dinner. Our dinners were always at 8.00 Pm at night. I still can’t remember making visits to the doctor for being sick anytime. My brother, however was a regular at the hospital due to his broken bones, courtesy of rough playing.

My parents both pushing 70 are quite healthy and still continue to inspire my children. I have seen remarkable changes in my son’s eczema when he stays with them during summer vacations.

My daughter, a remarkable teenager develops a sunnier disposition when she stays with them. Her memory recall improves and she is able to remember lot better than at school. If you think I am implying that all this is because of the shlokas or the food my parents cook, I assure you, you are not wrong.

There is something divine in the way the food is cooked with a calm thought. Then when it is offered to the omnipotent, then it adds further divinity.

We always want more of wealth, health and prosperity. Only food gives us the contentment, we so often seek and when satisfied, we cannot want more till it gets exhausted. We all can make better our health and the health of our loved ones, if we cooked with a little thought. The thought of giving good health, along with the strength to our loved ones.

Try indulging in some calm peaceful music while you cook. As much as possible, try sourcing local products. We don’t eat meat or eggs at our home, so I couldn’t say much about that.

Love the food you get to eat each day. Be grateful and respectful of the food on your plate. Sit and eat without any distractions.

May the food we eat, become the source of strength and good health as intended.