Two tomatoes, two potatoes, finely chopped. An onion too? Why not.
A little oil, warmed. Some cumin seeds. Let them sputter.
One whole red chilly. Fried until you can’t breathe without coughing from its hot vapours.
Then, a flurry. Onions browned, potatoes, tomatoes, rice, dal — everything dunked in together.
In ten minutes, there is a meal.
Hot, nourishing. We slurp it up with cold curd. And marvel at our good fortune.
Look, we say, what a feast. And I thought cooking was difficult, I laugh.
No, that’s just a myth. Perpetuated by perfectionist mothers. And nitpicking grandmothers.
We laugh some more. Sated with khichdi — humblest of meals.
No, we say, food fit for the gods…