The desi obsession with get-togethers takes a toll
I was born to an extroverted father and a mother who was an immaculate homemaker. This meant socialization and throwing parties were something that happened regularly at home. There was extensive menu planning, grocery shopping, elaborate cooking, detailed dusting, crockery coordinating, and perfect hosting. I was a good helper!
There were all kinds of animal protein on the menu—mutton, chicken, and fish. And how can one forget the king of vegetarian menus: paneer? Then there were sookhi sabzi (dry, sautéed vegetables) as well as a few geeli sabzis (a curry in a white sauce or similar). There was salad, and some kind of pulao as well. And then we served either parathas or pooris or naan because no self-respecting Indian feeds you rotis even though we are the world leaders in cardiovascular diseases.
My parents invited more than 200 people and did all the cooking themselves. We lived in North Africa, so you didn’t have access to help the way you have in India. One of my uncles decided to make a movie, and my parents had 250 people over for a meal. Why?
The Workload of Indian Parties
I was raised in a home where my father helped a lot around the house and my parents shared the workload of parties. But I still witnessed how exhausted my mother looked at the end of the day, and how much extra work it was for my dad to pitch in after a day at work. Even though we didn’t have financial troubles, I overheard them discuss how every party broke their budget. Indian parties are rarely simple and always emotionally complicated because everyone is trying to outdo another person. So you might start with five dishes but end up serving 15 to your guests.
I started my life in NYC with the same values despite being a young immigrant with limited cash flow. I would host weeknight parties and cook an extensive meal for two dozen people after a full day at work. I didn’t know better.
On weekends, I would invite random people we had met at Ikea. Because I had learned that unless you were cooking, feeding people, and partying, you weren’t living a good life. Once someone asked me to make kadhai paneer for 75 people for her daughter’s birthday party. I was 23 and didn’t know how to say NO or question the ridiculousness of the request. Perhaps a part of me enjoyed the ego boost that came from strangers complimenting my cooking skills.
When I was in my twenties, my parents and in-laws warned me to not fall into their patterns. They nudged me to take better care and slow down. My mother didn’t have good health as she got older, but it was too late for her to change her ways. People were used to my parents being warm and generous hosts, but my mother wanted me to avoid her mistakes.
The Compulsion For A Party
In our culture, people are always asking for a party. Your birthday, you throw a party. Your promotion, you treat others. You achieve anything, you hear “Party bantee hai.” (“This calls for a party”).You have a baby, and instead of making sure you are supported for a month, people expect a party.
When I was in college, a friend commented, “Why don’t we ever offer to do something for others? Wouldn’t it be nice if we treated someone on their birthday?” Another friend in India, who is more discerning about how she spends her time, was quite upset when people kept hounding her for a party on her birthday last year despite knowing that she was traveling. “Kya junoon hai party ke liye,” she wondered aloud to me. (“What’s this eagerness for a party?”). They expected her mother to prepare all the traditional dishes.
Within a few years of moving to New York City, getting more exposed to other cultures, and making many non-desi friends, I realized and relished newer friendships that weren’t focused on culinary skills or hosting gatherings or people. It was about having a relaxed time, learning from each other, trying out different cuisines, and just being in the moment.
We socialized a lot, watched the best shows, and went on vacations. Sometimes, we did dinner parties at home, but they were simple and relaxing. There was no pressure to perform or the fear of being judged. We often met at restaurants, so it wasn’t a burden for anyone. A dinner party was intimate and not a performance barometer. It’s not easy planning and prepping for a party every weekend. It leaves you without time to relax or pursue your hobbies. Both my husband and I are big on downtime. Come Monday morning, you are back at work with the same grit and determination!
Staying True To Ayurveda
When I visit India, my friends attend parties during the week and expect me to accompany them to a stranger’s place to make small talk. Late night eating, mindless mingling, and drinking until wee hours isn’t my scene anymore and it’s not Ayurvedic either. I am still an extrovert, but I pay attention to my choices and how I nourish my senses and life.
I used to be that person who discussed dinner at lunch and always had food on her mind. But it’s taken years of unlearning to understand that this Indian obsession with partying and keeping yourself mindlessly busy is unhealthy, and an immature way to avoid dealing with issues going on in life.
In the last 20 years, yoga and spirituality have become my guiding principle of life. While we love good food and great company, my husband and I are conscious of the quality of everything. We embrace low days and don’t fill them up with booze and company for the sake of it. We don’t go crazy while experiencing the highs. We both understand that every phase of life is transient. Unless you learn to love your own company and appreciate your partner without any frills and engagements to fill your life together, you’ll neither find peace nor happiness.
“Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom.” ~ Lao Tzu
