Complying to the olden traditions, I have been conditioned to fathom the love of food in people, by asking them two simple questions. Do you eat to live or do you live to eat? Being born and nurtured in a family where food equals a celebration with each meal, I unapologetically stand atop in the latter category.  You know that passion and love have surpassed their limits when you sleep with the thoughts of something and wake up with them, too.

For many communities in our country, the above listed characteristics are not rare. It isn’t uncommon to witness food, dominating the lives of many in a plethora of aspects. Happiness is beyond words when a Punjabi family sits for lunch with a plate of meaty Rajma-Chawal with lemon and chilies, when a Bengali mother squeezes the sugar syrup from spongy Rashogullas to stuff her child’s mouth, when a Muslim household savors some juicy mutton biryani and sheer khurma or when a Maharashtrian treats himself with kaanda poha and some hot tea, for breakfast. The instances are countless and so are my descriptions of how vibrant life is with good food.