Pursuing fads like besan today, veggies tomorrow and juices the day after, are not just an insult to your stomach and brains but also to your mother.
The most neglected and abused part of ‘getting in shape’ is the kitchen. The backbone of an efficient kitchen is often the mother, choosing and storing the grains, pulses, milk, vegetables and fruits with the kind of precision that can put an inventory manager to shame. And she does a great job of it, given the fact that Tinku has a real taste for bhindi, while Minku can’t stand the sight of it.
And to ensure that Mom knows just how ungrateful they are, the kids moan about how there is never anything appetising on their plates: “What, bhindi again? How boring!”
Then one day, Tinku and Minku decide to go on a ‘diet’ and the ‘dietician’ duly puts them off home food. Suddenly, rice is fattening, ghee can’t even be named, sabzi can’t get its mouth-watering tadka and fruits that aren’t watery are a no-no. What a pain!
Seriously, don’t we realise that we get fat mostly because we eat out much more? Not eating at home and stuffing yourself with diet packages instead, or pursuing fads like besan today, veggies tomorrow and juices the day after, aren’t just a disservice to your stomach and brains but also to your mother. What mom would feed a child anything remotely toxic or fattening? The tadka in dal, the carefully cooked rice, the ghee that melts on the tava roti, the pulpy mango are all not just high on nourishment (no, not on calories) but have fat-burning properties.
If mothers (and wives) charged us for their ‘fat-burning’, ‘antioxidant-rich’, ‘fresh’, ‘hygienic’ and ‘peppered with love’ meals, they would not just be the richest women on earth but would also not need to put up with the daily drama at the dining table.
(Nutritionist Rujuta Diwekar’s latest book is called Women and the Weight Loss Tamasha.)