I am sure you have tasted food and even had the luxury of relishing it. So it would be silly for me to ask if you have tasted food, wouldn’t it? Instead, let me ask you this: have you tasted hunger? Well, before you jump in to say yes, let me clarify—I am not talking about the usual hunger pangs that make your stomach feel empty and gurgling, accompanied by mild headaches or irritability. I am talking about the kind of hunger that leaves you utterly helpless to the core making you feel in that moment that your life is ending. So, have you tasted hunger?
Our Fast-Paced Lives and the Disconnect from Food
In the fast-paced era we live in, our relationship with food has shifted dramatically. We are glued to our screens, even while eating, taking pictures for Instagram before we even have a bite. We rarely stop to think about the essence of food, do we? Our lives are dictated by schedules and fad diets that tell us to eat five times a day, to have breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a pauper. There are countless rules and fads about eating on time, with fixed lunch breaks, but rarely do we hear about eating only when we feel hungry and with gratitude.
I was once entrenched in this mindset, eating on time without much thought. But life has its way of teaching lessons. I thought, or rather assumed, I had known hunger and overcome it until that particular day when hunger hit me hard, broke me, and humbled me, all at once. Let me tell you about that experience—not only to remind and ground myself but also to share the lessons with you, so you don’t have to go through the same pain.
A Personal Encounter with Hunger
There was a phase where I was on steroid medication that didn’t sit well with me. On that particular day, my husband had left for the office, and my daughter had gone to school. I was going about my chores, but unlike every other day, I felt palpitations. The side effects of the steroids hit me hard, and I felt great hunger pangs. My throat had gone dry, while my hands and legs started shivering. I started feeling sweaty and drained. I loosened my dress, splashed water over my face and sipped on water. No amount of water could satiate me; all I needed was a mouthful of food but the next thing I know is that my body was giving up on me.
I had prepped a simple daal for the day, as I wasn’t my usual self and kept things as simple as possible. The daal was done in the cooker; I had no patience for a tadka. My body was leaving me helpless, and my brain started clouding with exertion. I clearly remember I had only just enough energy to walk a few steps from the living room to the kitchen. Even when I managed to do so, I was so drained that I couldn’t lift the lid of the cooker to open and plate myself some food. I was so sure I was dying that day.
It was at that moment I came face to face with the devil called hunger. Hunger comes armed, exposing your vulnerabilities with nowhere to hide. It tears you apart, rips your ego, and slaps you with the truth of your powerlessness—your identity, success, or status mean nothing. Hunger is an unforgiving master with no ears for your self-pitying questions like ‘Why me?’ No amount of reasoning works to make this master show some grace.
The Day Hunger Humbled Me
It’s hard to accept, but in such a state, my life flashed before me, magnifying my mistakes—small and big. I don’t know if it’s the mind’s play or the universe’s way of teaching through this master called hunger, but that moment was the most vulnerable and the most humbling.
I cried, but even my wails didn’t have enough energy to sound. As I cried my lungs out, praying for just one last chance, I realized it was the death of my ego—the very thought that I was doing it all, that I was capable of anything. It was this feeling, the death of it, that felt hard—dying while alive.
In those few moments of surrender, the unforgiving master had accepted me—my failure and my plea for grace—and moved me inch by inch. The next moment, I found myself sitting before a plate of dal chawal. The overwhelming feeling of gratitude for the miracle that made me relish that simplest yet most delicious meal kept me in good spirits. That day, I realized food satiated me, but hunger went one step further and humbled me.
Cherishing Food with Mindfulness and Gratitude
In our daily lives, we often take food for granted, seeing it merely as a necessity rather than a blessing. My experience taught me to cherish each bite and to eat with mindfulness and gratitude. Hunger is more than just a physical sensation; it is a teacher, a humbler. It strips away the layers of ego and pretence, bringing us face-to-face with our most basic human needs and vulnerabilities.
So, next time you sit down to eat, pause for a moment. Think about the journey of that food to your plate, the effort it took to prepare it, and the nourishment it provides. Eat when you’re hungry, and eat with gratitude. Because tasting hunger, truly tasting it, not only humbles you but also teaches you the real essence of food.
Written as part of #BlogchatterFoodFest.
