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Cottage cheese and culture
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Author Ajeet Cour says food is not quite her forte
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Photo: Sandeep Saxena
About commonalities Ajeet Cour at Chopsticks restaurant in New Delhi
She radiates the typical Punjabi warmth and exuberance. It is, in fact, quite infectious. Author Ajeet Cour arrives at The Village’s Chopsticks: The Orient Room, on New Delhi’s Khel Gaon Marg, and her warm smile, spreading like wildfire
, is quickly acknowledged by the waiters. You realise that nearly everyone in the restaurant knows her well, and that’s more due to her affable personality. “Whenever I come to this restaurant, it’s like coming to an extended family,” she explains taking a seat at one of the round tables. She adds, “In general, I don’t like Chinese food but I love the ambience of this place.”
Fresh lemon water
Just like her writing, whatever she says comes from theheart. After ordering her “usual” fresh lemon water, she says, “I know waiters, cooks and cleaners in most restaurants I visit. At the end of the day, these are the people who matter.”
Food is not quite her cup of tea and she eats only because she shouldn’t fall ill, says the Sahitya Akademi awardee. “My daughter has a fulltime job of feeding me.”
Life hasn’t been easy for Ajeet but she has taken it in her stride. She was barely 12 when Partition forced her family to move to India. “It was the biggest historical blunder, which cannot be eliminated,” she asserts, sipping her juice. Her award-winning autobiography “Khana Badosh” reflected the same emotions. “The culture is the same across the borders, as neither can they do without Nizamuddim Aulia, nor can we eliminate Guru Nanak (born in Lahore),” she cites as an example.
Before settling down for a chat, she takes her pick from the lavish buffet. From the starters — mushroom, corn and cauliflower fries, along with some sautéed mushrooms and baby corn — she heads to the main course section and helps herself to some cauliflower pepper salt and cottage cheese in bean curd sauce.
“My daughter, Aparna, is vegetarian and so I have also turned one. But when I was young, my grandfather would take me to his Muslim friend’s home to eat some exotic non-vegetarian dishes,” says the founder of the Academy of Fine Arts and Literature.
Getting back to the discussion, Ajeet recalls, “In the early ’70s and ’80s, people from Pakistan had to come to India on the pretext of Urs or the last rites of some close relative. I thought why shouldn’t there be an event where writers and poets from both sides of the border could meet without having to make any excuses. Though I knew it is the government that should take such incentives, I could never get myself to meet the ministers. And at that time, I didn’t even know that we could get grants and funds from the government. So I organised an event in 1987 with my own money, where artists, authors and poets from across the border could share their experiences and views. I even managed to get 10 visas for writers from Pakistan.”
It’s only after seeing the success of her programmes that the government decided to take it under its wing and gave the programme a new name — The Foundation of SAARC Writers and Literature — and made Ajeet its chairperson. “I have organised 19 events since its inception in 2000,” she says, sipping Chinese tea. Mention her mother tongue, Punjabi, which is her language of creativity as well, and the author becomes emotional. “It is unfortunate that people are no longer connected with their roots. People from both the Punjabs are losing touch with their language. If this is the case with this generation, think about the next! Most of them don’t know the Gurmukhi script,” she remarks. It is to bridge this gap that she organised a meet recently where 10 poets from both the Punjabs got to share their experiences.
The just rounded up SAARC Folklore Festival is the latest feather in her cap. And Ajeet gets excited the moment she talks about it. “It’s my madness, I like to get into such things. Culture is mostly handed down orally, and folklore is the most popular way of doing it. In our country, we have folklore for every occasion, and I wanted to bring to it some deserved attention.”
The food on her plate is almost untouched. “I am already full. As always I have put too much on my plate,” she says, declining the offer of dessert.
MANGALA RAMAMOORTHY
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