Wait a minute

As I sat cross legged on the mud-plastered floor, the countryside cold of the winter evening was threatening to jam my legs and hunger was making my insides growl. Villagers had been kind enough, offered food and facts but the day long recce had still left me feeling like an urban intruder. Even casual stares underlined the stark differences between our two worlds. But steadily the sky turned from orange to purple to black easing me into the cloak of darkness, helping me to fit in. While waiting for food, I surveyed the men squatting by the glowing charcoals, their palms absorbing its sweet heat and two faceless veils cooking at the fire of the hearth. Tobacco hukkas had nudged the tired talks to recede into merry silence.

Food was served in the plate and bowls made up of dried leaves. The warm aroma of the curry mixed with the cool scent of the leaves and earth promised a supping experience different from the one I had last night at a somewhat royal mansion in Jaipur. The darkness compelled me to touch and feel my food to ready my tongue in anticipation. The curry was hot and watery with chunks of vegetables and a hint of fresh coriander. The curd was thick and smooth with sugar particles in it. Then there were glistening garlic cloves, some raw mango pickle and a salad of onions, carrots and sprouts. This was accompanied by hot bajra(millet) rotis dripping with homemade butter (ghee), porous like the mud plastered floor and walls of the veranda. The first morsel of the roti dipped in the curry melted in my mouth with the bland roti calming the riot of the spices in the curry and the ghee complementing it all. The garlic cloves were stir-fried with salt, green chillies and burnt to perfection…a blast in the mouth. The sweetness of the curd cleared the palate and the pickle’s tanginess and salad’s crunch gave the meal vivacity.

The meal was like the whole village served on a plate. The bajra from the village fields, fresh seasonal vegetables, homemade curd and ghee from the milk of the household cows…the meal gave a peek into the lives of the villagers. I could not help but appreciate its unpretentiousness. The meal did not pretend to promise more than what it could offer in taste and nutrition. Unlike the meal from the Jaipur mansion, it was straightforward, devoid of the garb of extravagance. The Jaipur meal was cooked for some guests to be pleased, this meal was cooked for family to satiate hunger and to nourish. It made me feel less like a guest.