I am not a foodie. Consequently, I’m
not interested in cooking as well. Every time I see a food show on TV, my mouth
furrows to a lopsided S, and I customarily change the channel. Starting off
from my early childhood days watching Sanjeev Kapoor cook up aesthetic chows on
TV screen and my nutsy aunt hurriedly
making notes, as if that was “the only” day for her to impress all her in-laws
with her cooking skills, (she can’t cook for nuts even today!) …. To the much
glamourized TLC and FoxLife channels hosting an entire range of food shows
where Master Chefs travel to far-flung regions and excavate long gone recipes. All
these only made me more nauseous and wonder how can anyone dedicate their lives entirely
to food?
But. There’s always a but, isn’t
it? There’s something about desserts that makes me go woozy in the head. Being a
Marathi mulgi, sheera, kheer, puranpoli, besan ladu, basundi, most of the desserts didn't find my
fancy. But…this exquisite, light brown orb of sheer delish dunked in sedating
elixir… Nirvana!
Gulabjaam it is.
My mom is the most fabulous
chef I’ve ever known. (Don’t believe me? Come over on Sundays and this Diwali.
You’ll know!) But to her sorrow, I never had the talent and appetite to devour
her delicacies. I felt the vacuum of her delectable food, after I moved out and
set up my own lil’ kitchen with my husband in our home. 1 year into my
marriage, I relentlessly hailed the kitchen, bringing all possible delicacies
to life. Recipes I never tried, ingredients I never bothered about earlier… and
most importantly, my creative hand in cooking I never knew existed. I’m in the
fourth year of my marriage now… don’t ask me what happened on the home chef
front in years 2, 3 and 4. Probably Sarita, my cook will answer that better.
(Didi gives menu of the day instructions, sleep-walking!)
But today, after watching a
skilfully crafted celluloid magic in the form of ‘Gulabjaam’, I have higher notches of newfound respect for food and the art of cooking. A non-believer in the
‘food for thought’ and ‘love for food’ adages, I can, now, to a large extent
decipher what it all means. My apathy towards cooking and lack of food fancy still
remains, but what has changed predominantly, is my outlook towards food. More
importantly, my respect for it. For its not just a menial job and its by-product,
but the creation of passion, emanating from one’s thoughts of love and life
that he/she instills in what they cook.
The film is about a young man, Aditya
(essayed by Siddharth Chandekar), who fully identifies his calling as a chef
and is nudged towards learning the art, is magnetically drawn towards Pune, the
city that houses some of the finest Marathi culinary art. One fine day, as he
relishes on a gulabjaam prepared by a lady named Radha (essayed by Sonali
Kulkarni), he is fixated on making her his guru, to teach him the art of
cooking traditional Marathi recipes. After a staunch revolt, as Radha opens
doors to her kitchen and life, Aditya delves into the high seas and is flown to the stars (the ones that fall from the sky, only to make the oceans brighter).
The story of the film, you will
find on several other sites online. But that’s not just what it’s all about.
It’s the story within the story that shines across vividly and its light needs
to be cast upon all.
The main premise of the film that
works in the foreground, is sure evident to every movie watcher. But what is
essentially weaved in this magical mosaic, is a beautiful story of stepping out
of the woods, fighting your worst fears and doing what you feel is right and
not what the world tells you to. And all this, with just a little bit of will,
and passion for what you do.
As humans,
we are all so trapped by our experiences, memories of those experiences, and
the urge to desperately create more memories out of fear of isolation, that we
often forget to live in the present moment. A moment with our own self. A
moment that we share with a task that we have at hand, without any baggage of
the past or burden of the future. Just the present moment. You and your task at
hand. Imagine the purity of that moment, where you have to just do something
and have no crushing deadlines, or who’s watching or what will be the outcome.
Just plain love & passion for what you do. A solitary moment that you share
with yourself. No expectations from or for.
Cooking,
for Radha, came at a point when she stepped out of the hospital after eleven
long years, with a completely wiped out memory and as good as non-existent
family to back her up. It’s all she knew, and all that her mind had left for
her from her memories. Drawn towards reclusion, she lived in a decrepit,
vintage Puneri family home, with locked doors and only her food to her company.
She articulated to her food, about all that she felt, and her food responded.
Cooked to perfection and tasting ambrosial.
Aditya
brings her out of the woods and exposes her to the world, helping her form
wonderful new memories. Memories that she could share with her food, behind
those locked doors, or even perhaps leave the door ajar a bit. Memories that would bring out the finest in her, bringing
her to life, yet again. And in the run for it, Aditya faces his fears and
reinforces his belief of taking up cooking as a profession, after letting go of
nagging familial commitments and focusing on his belief and passion.
Gulabjaam
is not as sweet as it seems. It is the sweetest. The one that is filled with
layers of stories, ideas, feelings, emotions and all the works. Just as the paak (gravy) slowly seeps into the core
of the gulabjaam, the film will seep into your heart and melt into your mind,
only to leave that heavenly tinge forever…..
We all live to make memories, but memories
stem out of living in the present moment.. living… something that we all seemed
to have consigned to oblivion. For once, stop taking that selfie. Stop
updating. Stop proving a point to someone. Stop worrying about the
consequences. Just stop. And live the moment that you have right here in front
of you. Experience it. Do your task with all your love and passion. Have that
conversation looking straight in the person’s eye. And you’ll figure, you’ve
got the recipe to life, just right!
PS:
Director Sachin Kundalkar and the entire team of Gulabjaam… a big bow to you
all & thank you for allowing us viewers experience this cinematic
brilliance.
