Food, bloody food!

I brought back food home from school in the evening! Perhaps I ate from the friend's tiffin box. It was made early in the morning. When my dad found out my tiffin box was full, it was already late in the night. The food smelt bad. Has it started to rot? The dad started giving me the food by his hands. It tasted bad. There was something definitely wrong with that. I resisted. Resisting my dad is stupid. No way he is backing away. He gave me the food and I ate it. Simple! 

He called me aside! You are not throwing food in the waste bin. There is no wastage of food in this house. I heard him well. The dad and his principles. My first lesson on food!

We were moving to a new place. The man guarding our office had a sad smile; His friends are moving. 'Saapiteengala na,(You had food?)' I asked him. 'Illa sir (Not yet)', came the reply. My friend and I were planning to buy the famous Ambur Biriyani for lunch. 'Ungalukku vaangava (Shall we buy for you also?)', we asked him randomly. Okay, sir, he smiled sheepishly. We bought him a biriyani and went on our merry way. I met him again in an hour, perhaps on the last trip transporting office things. 'Saapiteengala na(You had food?)' I asked again! Tamilian way of greeting, you see. He replied in the negative. I was a little taken aback. What happened to the biriyani? Why didn't you eat it, I asked him." I have kept it for my children, for they have not had Ambur biriyani before". 

Biriyani, the very same biriyani I eat every other day was way out of reach of the lower-middle-class security guard. 

Lockdown had just happened. The migrant crisis was hitting the roof. A group of like-minded people were trying to help the migrants by giving them food. Scores of people were made to stand in a queue and food packets were delivered. Everyday many after standing in big queues went back without food. A young boy, in jeans and a T-shirt with nice sneakers came along the side after finishing his first packet and asked, "Sir, aur yek packet hain kya, Mujhe bhuk lagen hain (Is there another packet sir, I'm hungry)"; The image of a bright young man begging for food is still fresh in my mind. 

Then that incident happened! I could never take this out of my system. Never! 'P', who works as a rescue worker and a childhood hero of mine pinged. "Sam, I need someone to be admitted in a hospital; Need doctors opinion" said she! I called my doc brother and together we went to check on this boy. 'D', the boy had not had food for a few days; 'Many', will be a better adjective. For the boy looked sick. Lockdown, parental problems and his own sickness made him dislike food. The photo speaks for itself. Let words not shadow the image.

On the day when the minister of state in parliament proclaimed that even stray dogs in India don't go to bed hungry, I'm learning a lesson. A big one at that. 

Food, bloody food, something which I take for granted is a privilege. Food, that which has given 'the foodie' in me so much joy, is grace. For I don't deserve it.