After a month of being continually on the verge of sickness, my body finally succumbed. It’s part of the territory, when you are a toddler parent with a child who either goes to day care or a play group. Immunity, you realise, is not something inherent. It is built and rebuilt through exposure to forms of virality. Thankfully, by now, I have gotten so good at taking care of myself when I am sick, I often forget it is a skill that must be learned and that only comes with practice. Living independently for almost a decade contributed significantly. I learned to exercise a simple rule of thumb when my body is most fragile. I mother myself. I have so internalised my mother’s behaviour towards me when I am sick that I simply reenact it. Even if I am low on energy, I stand by the stove and make myself an adrak chai. It is part of the healing process. As I write, I am making chicken soup, my go-to remedy for such a nasty cold.

I was recently listening to an episode of a podcast called The Shift, hosted by Sam Baker. It is specially targeted towards a 40+ female audience. I’m not there yet, but I’m close enough to the cusp to be able to relate to its messaging. The episode in question had a food writer and home chef named Bee Wilson talk about how cooking helped her heal after divorce. I was swabbing the floors as I took in whatever she learned from her experience of having her life fall apart when her husband, with whom she had been since she was 19, suddenly left her. She reminisced about her own mother, who had had a great repertoire as a home cook. Yet, after her father left, the daily menu changed significantly. It came as a surprise to her that so much of what her mother cooked was conditioned by her father’s tastes and preferences. I have noticed this time and again. I have observed how married people cook very differently for themselves as against for the family. They often employ a ‘making do’ approach when alone, because they are so dependent on cooking for someone or a family as the default mode.