When I Learned to Cook I Story By Aisha,12,Gurgaon
Aisha, a 12-year-old from Gurgaon, reflects on the kitchen as a sanctuary of love and tradition, where the simple act of making chapatis with their mother becomes a lesson in patience, passion, and the unspoken language of family bonds.
When I Learned to Cook
Meal is a Ritual
I grew up in a household where each meal was considered a ritual, and despite life pulling us in all directions, carving out time to dine together was a practice that we held dear. I often reflect on the day my mother first taught me how to make chapatis. As I stood beside her, the soft, powdery flour sifted gently through my fingers into the mixing bowl. Mother, with deftness in her hands, poured in water with utmost precision, ensuring not a drop veered off course. Kneading the dough felt foreign to my touch, but as she gently guided my fingers, it began to seem more natural. The grainy and slightly nutty aroma of the dough filled the air. After the dough was coherent, my mother skilfully shaped the dough into a ball, imbued with punctiliousness. I dusted flour on the pastry board and began rolling the ball of dough. Occasionally, she corrects my grip, gently adjusting the angle of my hands.
Chapati
My chapati turned out in the shape of an unknown country’s map, but as I saw my mother roll the dough out, with every stroke, there was a sprinkle of love, tenderness in her dexterous palms, and passion in her eyes. With flawless adeptness, she effortlessly lifted the chapati and, in a single flourish, spun it onto the warm tawa. As it sizzled, its edges turned golden brown, while the centre puffed with a voluptuous rise. My mother wiped the gleaming bead of sweat from her brow, her hand brushing against the vibrant folds of her saree. With practiced ease, she grasped the tongs, lifting the golden roti and flipping it onto the open flame. I took the tongs from her and placed the perfectly done chapati on a plate. It tasted organic yet delicious, with a comforting smokiness from the tawa.
In those moments, I learnt that cooking is not just a skill but a culinary language of love. The satisfaction of making a meal is the driving force that triggers me to keep going.
***
This article is published by Bookosmia, India’s #1 publisher for and by young people. Bookosmia publishes stories, books, podcasts, events, TED-Ed talks, workshops, bedtime stories and more related to kids and young adults.
Photo Credit – Copyright Free, Royalty Free images from Pexels
Want to publish your articles, reviews, stories, audio stories, bedtime stories and poems ?
Did you know that children can submit audio stories to be turned into Bedtime Stories and published on Bedtime Stories – A Podcast by Bookosmia?
Write to us at sara@bookosmia.com or submit your article at the link below
Buy the Books
Read More
Related Stories
