Footloose and Foodist: January 2015

BY THE BOOK!

On November 7, last year, after a few days of hectic activity and tonnes of misgivings and fears as to whether it would actually happen or not, The Book was finally launched. The Seven Sisters, Kitchen Tales from the North East, a Westland Publication finally saw the light of the day, it became a reality. It was a book on which my co-author, Sanghita Singh and I had worked on for nearly two years. As journalists we were used to working with maddening deadlines and improbable targets; sometimes after working tirelessly on what we call 'stories' we had to sit back and accept that it would ultimately not happen. But there would be no time to brood and lament the lost hours and effort, it meant moving on to other stories and the perpetual deadlines always hovering. But the book seemed to be one project that just continued and continued.....

So when the union minister for state for home, Kiren Rijiju stood on stage untying the ribbon at the four-day North East Festival in Delhi, we could finally heave a sigh of relief and like proud mothers step back and watch with smiles. It was of course, another story that Sanghita Singh was running a very high fever and was ready to topple over any moment! It was after the launch, the speeches and okay, the applause, surrounded by families and friends and well wishers, that we looked at each other and said, it is over. Or was it? Because the launch had been organised at such a short notice, like a runaway marriage, several arrangements fell short, the most crucial being that we left out more from the invite list then we invited. So much so that a friend made me sign, 'to the friend I forgot to invite for the launch' on her copy!

Serendipity is a word that one doesn't get to use much. But for once it is a phrase that I can use it in the true sense. Because that alone can explain how the book came about. The beginning was almost flippant- as some one born and brought up in the North East of India, I have done my fair share of explaining the people, culture, cuisine and such to the rest, not always of course with the expected reaction. It was a lah-di-dah place, beautiful people, mostly ladies and the spirits and foods were flowing. Which was great, but to be constantly reminded, and that too not very politely, by the caterer/manager/whoever-quite-stuffy, that the food was healthy yet delicious, the best of ingredients from abroad, blah blah and why, oh why couldn't Indian cuisine be like that. Now THAT got not just my goat, but buffalo, pig, chicken, fish and the intense desire to shake him into sense; not sense into him, but him into a cauldron full of sense. Maybe one can call it a moment of epiphany but that was when one decided to write a book on North East cuisine. One made a loud declaration and that declaration got transferred into a contract with Westland.

So far, so good. Even deciding on the content, the format wasn't difficult. We knew that though we love food beyond everything, cook regularly, been fortunate to have travelled around a bit and tried a very wide variety of cuisine, but we were not chefs and it couldn't be our recipes. It had to be recipes of the people of the seven North East states - Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland and Tripura. If there are family recipes, there are family stories and that was exactly what we wanted. The book would have personal touches, pictures and each state would have a brief introduction; it would be something like a documentation of the North East food heritage.

In one's mind and to some extent on paper, the book concept seemed good. It was when we began work that we felt that we might have bitten off more than we could chew. The first task involved reaching out to friends, family friends, friends of friends, relatives of friends, friends of relatives of friends and an endless human chain. There were hundreds of phone calls made, hundreds of emails shot off. Explaining the concept took a long, long time. Getting responses took a re-a-a-a-a-a-a-ly long time! Worse, only a fraction of the people we contacted responded. But persistence, I realised, pays. We shamelessly invited ourselves over for North East food. The whole exercise also made me realise that just because someone is from a particular region of the country, that person need not necessarily know everything about the region. That 'someone' in this case was yours sincerely, whose smugness because I-am-from-the-North-East-and-I-know went flying out of the window!

It was maddening, exasperating, funny, hilarious, sad, what-the-%$#@&*^%, exhausting, enriching, every gamut of emotion but it was great. There was one time when our good friend and photographer Anuj Parti had to virtually slap my hand to stop me binging on the exquisite Kalhang Pork that Pemi had whipped out because he feared that none would be left for the food shoot. In fact, there were several dishes, half of which made their way into our bellies before the shoot! Then there was a security personnel at the Manipur house who fled the room when we unpacked the fermented fish. There were many dishes we cooked ourselves and patted ourselves for it! There were outdoor shoots where we had politely ask curious people to step back and shoots where we had guard against thieving cats!

Suddenly one day we had the content, the pictures and everything in place. We also had much much more over that - scores of new friends, scores of old friendship revived, friends whom we saw in new light, families of friends who welcomed us into their families. It was not just North East but people from North East living elsewhere in the country and abroad too. And the memories associated with each recipe ah! Ultimately, it made me realise what wherever you are, whoever you are, whatever you do, the fulcrum that holds everything in place is the kitchen of your home. What happens in every kitchen in every home is like a magical chain that binds the family together even though you may not be living in that home anymore and may be far away from your family. So? We all know that, don't we might say. Sure, but for me it was reliving that again, a reassurance that even though I might be living far away from the North East, it lives within me.

Why didn't I write about the book earlier? Hmm! Can one be allowed to say that I thought the review of the book would best be done by reviewers? I was told by a friend that it was a case of snobbery. I don't know what exactly that implies but there, I have done it! Talked about the book that is. I am even attaching here some pix, many of which were not incorporated in the book. So there!