Check out 16 Return-To-Work Programs In India For Ambitious Women Like You!
My mother has cooked every day for her family and sometimes for others, for most of her life, without almost a single day of break.
Every time I write about my mother coming to Bangalore to stay with us, someone or the other says things like this…
“Wow, this means you’ll get to eat amazing food back-to-back.”
“Great news, you’ll get ma ke haath ka khana again. There’s nothing quite like it.”
“What special dish is aunty making for you?”
“Oh, you must be relieved to have her. She can take charge of the kitchen while she’s here.”
I know these are all well-meaning comments, meant to celebrate the mater’s arrival. But it is also hilarious (and deeply disturbing) to see how immensely we have internalized and normalized the role of the mother as a cook. It’s a given. It’s almost universal in its appeal. It makes one feel joyous and tender to think of “Ma ke haath ka khana” instead of pondering over whether it’s always joyous for the mother for real, if we strip her of her conditioning.
Because you know what?
My mother is an almost sixty-five years old tiny, frail woman, with weak, arthritic knees. Even so, she still takes care of her own kitchen when she is in Kolkata, without much rest. She has cooked every day for her family and sometimes for others, for most of her life without almost a single day of break.
Why on earth will she come here to cook for me, to cook for us, in her old age?
If the spouse and I need help to make food, I’m sure we’ll figure out ways other than exploiting the free labor of my aging mother by romanticizing it. Doesn’t she cook at all? No, of course she does. This is her home too. She cooks for two reasons: either because she really wants to, or because due to some unforeseeable circumstances, she needs to, both of which we are immensely grateful for.
Given how Ma was raised, initially when she’d come to Bangalore, she’d feel it’s her “duty” to cook for us too in order to make herself “useful”, while she was here. Ideal mothers must serve some indispensable purpose in the household, shouldn’t they? She’d pressure herself to think of our favorites and then get us to buy her the ingredients which she’d then painstakingly wash, chop, grind, sauté and simmer, day after day.
Thankfully, those days have now become a thing of the past. Ma has become so much more of a badass than I could have ever imagined growing up. Now, not only does she feel no obligation to provide the proverbial “ma ke haath ka khana”, in fact, she sometimes demands my husband (who is a son to her now) and I cook different delicacies that SHE likes, instead. I love that! I mean how many times do we ask mothers what they want to eat and then cook that for them? Negligible, compared to the number of times most mothers do that for us.
When I nag to my mother these days to make my favorite egg curry (which is truly out of this world), she turns to me and says, “Hello, I’m not your cook! I’ve spent enough time teaching you how to make it. Now you make it for me, and I’ll tell you what you’re doing wrong so that next time, you can make it better.”
It fills me with limitless pride and joy to see that after so many years, Ma now finally knows her place.
The world sure didn’t make it easy for her.
And yet, she persisted.
Sanchari Bhattacharya is a writer and a relatively new artist with an M.Phil in English Literature from Jadavpur University, Calcutta. Her interest in feminist literature, coupled with her experience of being raised by a read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Women today don’t want to be in a partnership that complicates their lives further. They need an equal partner with whom they can figure out life as a team, playing by each other’s strengths.
We all are familiar with that one annoying aunty who is more interested in our marital status than in the dessert counter at a wedding. But these aunties have somehow become obsolete now. Now they are replaced by men we have in our lives. Friends, family, and even work colleagues. It’s the men who are worried about why we are not saying yes to one among their clans. What is wrong with us? Aren’t we scared of dying alone? Like them?
A recent interaction with a guy friend of mine turned sour when he lectured me about how I would regret not getting married at the right time. He lectured that every event in our lives needs to be completed within a certain timeframe set by society else we are doomed. I wasn’t angry. I was just disappointed to realize that annoying aunties are rapidly doubling in our society. And they don’t just appear at weddings or family functions anymore. They are everywhere. They are the real pandemic.
Let’s examine this a little closer.
Please enter your email address