நான் கடலின் ஒரு துளி அல்ல; ஒரு துளியின் ஒட்டுமொத்தக் கடல் - ரூமி

செவ்வாய், 9 டிசம்பர், 2025

'In our Kitchen…' story(English version) by Tamil Bharathan won Cash prize of 1 lakh INR in Kumudam Story Competition

   

The 'In our Kitchen…' story was written by Dr. Tamil Bharathan and received the 3rd Prize (Cash prize of 1 lakh INR) in the Sangam Poetry-based Tamil Short Story competition organised by Kumudham Magazine and the Konrai Foundation. The story was published in Kumudham magazine dated 09.12.2020. The story is based on the Sangam poem - Kuṟuntokai 167. The poem and its meaning are given below. I would be happy to listen to your thoughts and comments after reading. English Translation done by S. Shwetha.

 

In our Kitchen

With only a few hours left, he called his mom hurriedly. In moments of confusion, advice is always sought from the one who introduced the world to us. Even after four rings, his mom did not answer the call. Let me try for one last time. If she picks up, then it's fine, if she does not... That is not an option. She will pick it up. As he was thinking, “Ācai paṭṭa Ellāttaiyum[1]”, the tune rang in his phone.

“Just now I saw the news. Lockdown will be in effect from tonight. You told me that you will vacate the hostel and come back, where are you?”

“Hello Amma, it's jam-packed here. There are no trains. Cab drivers are refusing to drive. The bus is the only way to travel. It is better to stay put than venture into this crazy crowd. But where can I stay in Chennai? Nobody will let anyone inside their house. I’m totally confused. Give me an idea.

Mom advised the son who was working in a Consultancy.

“If you won't get mad, I’ll tell you something”

“You want me to go to Valli’s home, don't you? You don’t want to say anything at all, just hang up!”

Overflowing buses, cars that refuse to cross Tambaram, and Stationary trains in stations. Corona has turned the normal upside down. As soon as the government announced 144 for the next 48 days, the hostel manager posted on WhatsApp, ‘Cooks will not be available. Restaurants will be shut too.’ Right after seeing the text, he vacated the hostel and was on his way to his hometown. Autos and Cabs were not available due to self-curfew. While he was updating stuff online, he was not ready to go to Koyambedu (CMBT) for fear of Corona.

He could go to any relative’s house. But there are no close relatives who can feed him with food and respect for 48 days. He could stay with his friends, but his last bachelor friend became a husband last month. The thought of being a nuisance to anyone made him give up the idea. He was even more irritated that his mom asked him to stay at Valli’s. 

He groaned to himself and walked towards the East that dawns. The place of Valli’s house was not coincidentally located in the east. He walked along with the howls of Stray dogs, he walked under the rolling gaze of owls, he walked in the silence of roosting birds, and he walked beneath the witness of the stars, and he walked and walked and walked. Nature controls the unstable Earth.  In this world, one must run and hide to defend oneself. This reality brings hopelessness towards life.

 

It was at the most unexpected time, place, situation, “Uṉakkē uyirāṉēṉ ennāḷum eṉai nī maṟavātē nī illāmal etu nim'mati nītāṉ eṉṟum eṉ caṉṉit[2]”. The call ended. It was Valli’s call. After almost two months, he is hearing that song. The lyrics and the pleasant impression that they left on him rekindled his memories.

“Uṉakkē uyirāṉēṉ ennāḷum eṉai…” he answered the call with silence.

“I know you won't talk to me. You don't have to. Even I would not have talked to you. Amma called me last night. She told me that you hung up on her angrily. You will be wandering somewhere here in Chennai at midnight. Send me the location, and I will come and pick you up.”

She cut the call without expecting answers. She reached the ground floor of her apartment to start the car even before he sent the location. Looking at the location, her expression turned as if she was looking at her dishevelled face in the mirror. She looked at him, who was standing right outside her apartment. She called him. He didn’t move. She called him again. No use. As she took him, the lift reached the 18th floor.

*

Valli. Talented, affluent woman. Software engineer in the computer sector. The monthly salary is above four lakhs. Her goal is to multiply that. No parents or her parents separated. Valli prefers to say that she has no parents.  All through school and college, she stayed only in hostels, even after getting a job, she stayed as a paying guest. When her salary exceeded a lakh, she bought this house on the 18th floor on EMI. It is more of a resting nest than a house. Even Valli prefers that. She lives by the saying “Spread your wings and fly” and flies in society. She thought that the emptiness of her life could be filled only by the success of flying. For Valli, victory is happiness.

Before her age crossed half a century, she had identified the one for her body and soul. It was him. He came from a small town to Chennai, studied through his mother’s hard work. He had just then begun to harvest lakhs. Same office, nonchalant 90’s kids’ face, no past relationships, no flirting with women. She had no one to tell her if she was doing the right thing by deciding to marry him. She decided and told him.

*

“Stay here”

She went inside and brought a bucket and a bottle of imported disinfectant. She asked him to put the bag in the bucket and sprinkled the disinfectant on him. His expression changed like a pest dying from pesticide.

“Sleep right here?”

“Hmmm”

He went in and slept in the hallway itself. Her sleep filled the second room with AC.

*

Valli was not like other women. Her self-knowledge and dreams were above average, and he liked it. After getting to know each other and deciding to marry, he came to the same house for the first time during a regular Mārkaḻi[3] [3] Night. Among the rare fine art pieces, the flame lily coloured walls and essential things that lived in the house, he was the only addition.

He talked, she talked, they talked. They talked until the sky clouds migrated.

“Shall I order something to eat?” She asked

“No need. Shall we have a coffee? No need to order. I will make,” he said, and walked into the kitchen.

 

It was surprising and Shocking. There were no utensils in that large kitchen. No groceries. There was RO Water for drinking and a refrigerator to extend the life of perishable fruits.

“Hey, what is this? There is nothing in your kitchen.” 

“To not have a kitchen at all is my dream. Do you have any idea about how much time each household spends cooking? Women were only meant to cook for a very long time in the past generations. For her husband, for his family, then for their children. The kitchen was the only place for women until they died. Fine, even after society developed and women began making their mark intellectually, did this condition change? No, why? Even today, the magazines that are exclusive to women give only recipe books as freebies. The idea that women are destined to cook is deeply rooted in the society’s structure. Need to change that.”

“Hey, you have lunch at the office. Then what about breakfast and dinner?”

“For breakfast, Juice and I will order for dinner. In between, I will have fruits instead of snacks”

“Opps! Will it be the same for me when I come here in the future?”

“No compulsion, but it would be nice if you followed too. I don't agree with the idea of men cooking, either. Why should anyone spend an hour cooking the food that we eat in 10 minutes? Think of how that time can be used productively. A thousand families spend an hour each preparing a meal. If the same food is prepared in bulk, each family will save an hour, that is, one thousand hours saved for one thousand families.”

The day after their wedding, they crossed the continent for their honeymoon. A month passed, and life became normal. He was bound by her words as they were newlyweds. They ordered food and ate. In a few months, Māppiḷḷaic campā[4]  rice sack harvested by his mother reached the 18th floor. “Don't want to cook that, don't want to waste too, I will just send it back," she said. He did not want to send back the fruit of his mother’s toil - the rice of his land. She did not like having something of no use in the house. Friction flickered. Flared. Fumed. It led to a divorce. They fell apart in heart before they fell apart in court. He left her house and went back to his PG hostel even before they received a legal notice.

*

“Hey, wake up. How long will you sleep?”

He raised his eyebrows, forming a “What?” expression

“Don't you feel Hungry? Look at the time.”

She gave him bread and jam. Sun shined. The balcony gave a view of trees, buildings and emptiness. No buses, no way to travel. He did not want to stay in the house where he had no right to stay. He washed his face and decided to go to his hometown somehow.

“Did you eat?” she longed for him would utter these words. After the implementation of Work from Home due to COVID-19, it became like this. She has changed. For the one who was always flying, the house became the sky. And a punishment too. No cooks were available because of the curfew. Buying food from outside was not safe due to the spread of the virus. He looked at her now lean form and pale face,

 

“You?” He uttered the word like a flower that blooms once in a blue moon.

She cried as the dark clouds that break the sky- sluice and soak the fields. He was reluctant even to touch her. “Wait, I’ll come”. He went to the kitchen to fetch water. Shock. Surprise too. New utensils have moved in. There was an induction stove, and it was a mess. There were some millets and grains for cooking. The refrigerator was filled with vegetables. There was a rice sack in the corner. Without expressing anything, he fetched water and gave it to her.

“I am leaving”, he prepared to leave

“Could you cook for me and go?” she asked

He cried, hugged, cooked, ate, and made her eat. He who was prepared to leave stayed there for 48 days. Mom taught Pāṭṭi camayal[5] [5] through WhatsApp. Food is a basic need. Spending hours inside the kitchen is unnecessary. The rice sack was over. After 48 days, the curfew was relaxed. Valli’s heart was full, she gained weight, and her face glowed. The two have now become three. Who knows, maybe even four. Mom was happy. Mom-to-be too.

Together, they tore the legal notice. The kitchen cooking that once drove them to divorce now drew them together, deepening their love and intimacy. This reality became hope.

 

The headlines of that day’s newspaper:

Coronavirus has been completely eradicated from the country. Social distancing is no longer necessary

 

Dot

 

Kuṟuntokai 167

Author: Kūṭalūrk kiḻār

Note: The foster mother who visited the couple in their marital house, said this to the heroine’s mother on her return.

English Translation: Mrs Vaidegi

 Mullai Thinai – What the foster mother said to the heroine’s mother

Wearing a garment that was not
washed after she mashed mature
curds and wiped on it with her
delicate fingers that resemble glory
lily petals, she cooked.

Smoke from her cooking spread
around and touched her kohl-lined
eyes that are like blue waterlilies.

She made sweet tamarind curry that
he enjoyed and ate.
Her face revealed her happiness in
a delicate manner, the young woman
with a bright forehead.






[1] A Tamil song dedicated to the mother 

[2] A Tamil Song that soulfully expresses the divine love a man has for his beloved 

[3] The ninth month in the Tamil Calendar. The month corresponds winter season and falls in DecemberJanuary.  

[4] a traditional, red-colored rice variety native to Tamil Nadu, named "Bridegroom's Rice" because it was historically fed to grooms to build strength for a traditional stone-lifting test

[5] traditional South Indian cuisine prepared by grandmothers, and is followed through generations

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