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Saying goodbye to greasy food

A foodie checks into an Ayurvedic centre in India

Tangy, spicy, and mildly sweet bhel puri (Indian snack) from the chaat place that knows my flavour ratio all too well. Crispy, perfectly browned urad dal vadas floating in a sea of hot oil waiting to be sieved and devoured with fresh coconut chutney. Greasy hakka noodles with vegetable balls drenched in ginger-garlicky Manchurian sauce. Crunchy and sweet banana fritters. French fries smothered with mayonnaise and ketchup.
Poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning ended her original version with - I shall but love thee better after death. Sadly, my love affair with food will not enjoy the luxury of an eternal romance.
This realisation dawned upon me two months ago when I checked into an Ayurvedic centre in India for treatment of lower back pain. After completing an extensive checklist of questions and consulting with a very calm doctor, who spent more than an hour listening to me prattle on about my lifestyle, habits, diet and bodily functions, I was assigned a treatment plan.
I woke up with great enthusiasm on day one, ready to be pummeled at and kneaded by expert masseurs. The dining room table held hot packs of dosas and dal. Starving from the previous day's journey I headed to grab a plate when a 'sweet' lady, Shobha, intervened with a steel glass in hand.
"No food for you now. Drink this and then eat lunch ONLY if you are really hungry."
Staring at the thick amber oil, my heart sank. Thankfully, it did not taste as bad as it looked. My stomach rumbled angrily for the next few hours. So starved was I that the bland gruel served for lunch felt like heaven. Phew, I thought to myself, that's over and done with. The relief was short-lived as the doctor told me (in the evening) that I'd spend the next two weeks not only receiving treatment for my back, but cleansing my digestive system as well. Unbeknown to me, the overwhelming honesty I'd indulged in had roped me into a buy one remedy get one free.
The fantasy I'd conjured in my head of a wellness getaway constituting endless massages, fresh breeze, healthy food, and lots of time to read books, melted away. Oil drinking was just the hors d'oeuvre of the elaborate buffet of treatments that was coming my way. I'll be kind enough to spare you the details of the hours I spent camping in the loo after ingesting laxative lehyams (herbal paste) and being subject to an oil basti (enema). It was not fun. I found myself wondering why James Bond's nemeses put him through all those elaborate mechanisms of torture when they could have just brought him here.
I wept for my poor intestines, imagining them bearing the sludge of 3am fries, trans fat from countless packets of cheese balls, and spices soaked from jars of pickles devoured over years. I cursed my selfish palate and vowed to never ever eat or drink anything unhealthy.
On day 14, I checked out, weighing three kilos less and feeling rejuvenated by the re-established balance of my vata, pitta and kapha (Ayurvedic term for biological energies). Shobha gave me a hug and told me to take care of myself. I winked and told her I'd be back next year.
"Food, glorious food!" has always been my mantra. But now I think twice, thrice and another few times before sinking my teeth into anything belonging to the junk-food family. My mouth waters when the aroma of my mother's tantalising double-fried mushrooms wafts into my nostrils to tease me. Where once I would have loaded a plate and chomped away at them like there was no tomorrow, now I graciously stop myself at three or four.
They say food is fuel for your body and you've got to watch what you put in. After all, we want maximum mileage, don't we?
So dear food, how do I love thee now? Let me count the ways.
Red rice and dal. Mealy multigrain kaboos with hummus. Carrot sticks. Green apples and almonds. Rocket leaf salad with cherry tomatoes and bell peppers. Steamed broccoli and bok choy. Almond milk and banana smoothies. French fries smothered with.
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Sangeetha is a writer, mother, foodie, and aspiring change maker.