Frames per second: Bread, cakes and khichdi

Since Thursday, Twitter and Facebook have been abuzz with posts from people outraged by the reported decision of the government to declare khichdi — the mishmash of lentils and rice — as the national dish. The debates refused to die down even as Food Processing Minister Harsimrat Kaur Badal clarified: “Enough khichdi cooked up on a fictitious national dish. It has only been put for a record entry in World Food India.” As reported in the media, celebrity chef Sanjeev Kapoor will attempt to create a world record on Saturday (November 4) by cooking 800 kg of khichdi at the India Gate lawns as part of the three-day-long World Food India event.

Badal has also claimed that the event aims to provide a shot in the arm for the food processing industry, and according to news reports, the copious quantity of khichdi prepared will be distributed among 60,000 orphan children and guests at the event. Yet, at a time when India is reeling at the 100th spot among 119 nations in the Global Hunger Index — only Pakistan and Afghanistan are worse than us in Asia — such a gesture only reeks of tokenism. Prepared by the International Food Policy Research Institute, the report points out that child malnutrition in our country is worse than that in North Korea and Bangladesh. At the same time that this report came out, another one was in circulation: Of an 11-year-old girl, Santoshi Kumari, in Jharkhand dying of starvation as she did not have an Aadhaar-linked ration card.

There is an escape from such horrors, but in a desperate attempt to distract myself, I watched Satyajit Ray’s Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne (1969) last week. This is the khichdi (comfort food) of my film watching. Unfortunately, though, every scene of the film — a childhood favourite — cried out “food” and “hungry”, possibly because of the thoughts that preoccupied me. Goopy and Bagha, the titular characters, are two village bumpkins, thrown out of their respective villages (Amloki and Hortuki) because one is a bad singer and the other plays the dhol unmusically. Taking shelter in the forest, they encounter the King of Ghosts who gives them three boons: Eat and wear what you like, travel wherever you want to, and mesmerise everyone (literally) with your music. Armed with these magical powers, they travel to Shundi, win a royal music competition, prevent a war with neighbouring Halla, and get married to princesses.