Food isn’t just sustenance. It’s ritual, an opportunity for exploration, a manifestation of our familial and cultural histories. When we gather at the end of the day to dine with our families, we don’t do so out of convenience; the conscious practice of sharing a meal enriches our days and deepens our connection to one another.
In Chandanki, a small village in Gujarat, necessity paved the way for a beautiful chance to foster community through food. Chandanki once had a population of 1,100, ripe with children frolicking around and young adults handling necessary daily duties. But soon enough their population dwindled down to a meagre 500, less than half of what it once was, when Chandanki’s youth left the village in droves.
Chandanki’s residents told India Today that their children moved to bigger Indian cities, like Ahmedabad, or even abroad to America, in search of better work opportunities. But, for Chandanki’s older residents, the village is the only home they’ve ever known, causing them to stay rather than follow their kids to more urbanised areas. This phenomenon, known as brain drain, has impacted areas all across rural India, and in Chandanki’s case, led to a situation where the remaining populace is now almost entirely elderly.
For an elderly person, cooking three times a day without help is tedious at best and nearly impossible at worst. And while the villagers’ kids are doing their best to support their families, their absence is obviously felt. As a result, Chandanki’s elderly residents repeatedly ate the same meals multiple times a day whilst isolated in their homes. Nourishment, satisfaction, and connection — the best parts of any meal — were missing from their lives.
It became glaringly obvious that this would not be a sustainable option for Chandanki’s residents. This is when, around 15 years ago now, the village’s sarpanch, Poonam Patel, introduced a creative new solution. Except for special occasions, meals were typically enjoyed within the confines of one’s own home. Patel, however, teamed up with other residents to start a community dining program. For a fee of ₹2000 a month, villagers can come to a dining hall and enjoy a prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner in each other’s company. The village cook makes Gujarati recipes, offering them delicious, homely food without the hassle of cooking and cleaning alone. Those who can’t walk receive tiffins of hot, fresh food delivered straight to their homes.
With over 40 participants, this food program has changed many Chandanki residents’ lives. Not only does it absolve them of the struggles of daily cooking, but it also allows them to foster deeper relationships with one another. Rather than sitting alone and eating in silence, they can now enjoy each other’s company, just as they did with their kids and families.
Connection with others is almost as necessary for human beings as food itself; it's a form of nourishment for the soul. Chandanki’s solution to its residents’ isolation is proof that community-based solutions are almost always the way forward.
If you enjoyed reading this, here’s more from Homegrown:
Here's Why Banu Mushtaq's International Booker Prize Longlist Is A Historic First
The Kerala Type Project: Mapping Kerala’s Cultural History With Its Typefaces
Rogan Art: How One Family Is Keeping A 400-Year-Old Gujarati Heritage Craft Alive