I have a BAD GUT feeling about stylish urban homes!

Hello readers,

I know, I agree that the title may be a tad-bit Click-bait, but not completely false.

Just hear me out. Take a closer look at the generational houses we have lived in. Our grandparents had simple but huge houses. Their kitchen had Chulha (earthen stove),  black-colored life-size Matka (earthen pot)to store drinking water. Kitchens could accommodate ten people seated at one time, so hot food could be served. There was no  need for refrigerator because they grew or bought fresh vegetables and milk daily. The left-over milk was transformed into yogurt. Garam masala mix, papad and pickles were made each summer and safely preserved in huge porcelain jars for the entire year. The whole grains were stocked for the season in huge Gunny bags and were milled into flour as needed. There was no concept of restaurants in their village. If someone couldn’t cook for any reason, the neighbors would cook extra and send over.

My parents kitchen size was reduced and access to fresh produce declined as they stayed in the city. So, my parents invested in a good refrigerator. The papad and pickles were still supplied by granny, and we would run out of stock much sooner. We carried a steel tiffin box to school. Eating in restaurants was only for celebrations. The kitchen held a dining table, but storage space fell short, so lifestyle changes took over. We shifted the dining table into the living room, due to the increasing popularity of Prime-time soap operas.

The apartment that I live-in in Dubai has huge living and bedroom, but my kitchen can barely let three people stand as space is taken up by fridge, washing machine, cooking range and dish washer. There are two shelves and a few drawers in name of “modular” kitchen. I don’t have the luxury of holding supplies for an entire year and avoid buying things if I don’t really use them. I have been toying with the idea of buying a house here, but all the newer buildings provide Matchbox-sized pantry kitchens. With most population around being either bachelor’s and nuclear families with one kid or even without one, the need for the kitchen became as rudimentary as the appendix in humans. I know that the delicate fire alarms would not be able to accommodate my  Tadkas (tempering spices in oil). Many places do not even allow the “good old LPG” and need to switch to induction. Now my Kadhai (Indian wok) keeps doing the balancing act of Bharatnatyam with its curved base, every time it goes on the flat induction.

With so many constraints around, cooking a meal feels like an overwhelming task and a click of button seems an easier choice, after a long day of work. The food comes in packed plastic or thermocol boxes, and you eat and throw away the box, so no dirty dishes. And the urban planners kept that in mind and have taken away the kitchens with a view to giving us extra functional room.

You might wonder why I’m getting emotional about kitchens. I am not judging the ones who order-in, we all choose convenience. But I’m  speaking about the wholesomeness in our food. My mother’s kitchen is still where we turn when someone’s unwell—it holds comfort, care, healing. My own kitchen, though, barely makes space for three simple meals, let alone nourishment. I’m not against modern life, but these sleek, storage-starved spaces are slowly making us reliant on processed, restaurant food or industrial produced diets. The regular yogurt lacks the live bacilli needed for gut health. Takeaway foods are high in oils, sugars, preservatives, and low in fiber. Package food companies  focus on shelf-life and sales, not on health. The microplastic from packaging has entered our systems. Bloating, gas, constipation, food intolerances and gut inflammation causing brain fog, fatigue, and weight gain  are the new epidemic. Adding to the insult is the impractical layouts and cramped spaces that cause decision fatigue and further disrupt the brain-gut balance.

Imagine this to be the life of normal human beings.

And then picture this to be the life of a lady going through a pre-menopause or an actual full-blown menopause. Would she manage this chaos?

This was just “food for thought.” If you agree with this, come back for my next blog, where we can try and find easy solutions to the current problem and make your Menopause navigation a bit more comfortable.

Till then, have some masala chhaas.

About the blogger: 

Dr. Tabassum Inamdar is a dynamic Homeopath, a passionate artist, and an adventurer in life. She writes a series of blogs related to health and wellness. A sketch artist since childhood, she loves authoring stories and poetry. She continues life’s adventure by trekking, Sky diving, or Marshalling at Formula 1 tracks. You may stalk her @doctabu (IG) or say hello @tabu.inamdar (FB)