Women, Cooking, Art, Patriarchy & Me
I started cooking this year, I learnt it in the time of need and as a women who needs to know it as a skill to “fit in” (such a dangerous term) I love cooking like I love democracy – It’s inefficient, but you would rather not live without it. I grew up reading novels where women stood in the Kitchen waiting for something to happen to them. Literature taught me to associate cooking in a kitchen with either Martyrdom or Art. Neither worked for me – Martyrdom filled me with rage for all the women before me and Art made it too self-indulgent created to draw us there. It felt like hypocrisy and the duality killed me. Most days my mind would end in fatigue that just wanted Maggie or Khichdi. Reading filled my head with theories about freedom and desire – but none of them taught me what to do to fill my stomach. I Learnt cooking from watching my mother. I prefer her out of kitchen or over a call so that would give me an illusion of freedom and that “it’s under my control”...