This time, last year, the city I live in was devastated by the worst floods it had seen in over a hundred years. An unusually heavy northeast monsoon unleashed its might on Madras, also known as Chennai, as well as the coastal regions of Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and Pondicherry. Hundreds of thousands of people were displaced, at least 500 lives were lost, and damages ran into billions of rupees.
While my city was being submerged, I was away in Massachusetts at the Kushi Institute, deeply engaged in the study of Macrobiotics. One morning, I received a phone call from my husband back home, who told me that the seasonal weather was something much more this year. Water was fast rising in our home, and he was calling from our terrace. Most homes in India have flat rooftops, where laundry is dried, potted plants may be grown, and parties are held under the moonlight. These terraces saved many people in the South Indian floods.
My husband told me that he had rushed into my kitchen to find three packets of a fresh batch of muesli. He had grabbed these, rounded my beloved doggies together, and fled to the roof with a couple of books.
That was the last I would hear from him for a few days, as the situation worsened and contact was lost. I took the next flight to India. I landed in a neighbouring city, since our airport was closed, and made a further 5 hour journey to Madras. It took me 3 days in all to get back.
What I saw upon my return shocked me. The city was in tatters – mountains of garbage, stranded people, homes and lives lost. But the human spirit is powerful, and a massive volunteer-led movement to provide succour to those most in need brought the city together. These relief measures, and governmental support, were heartwarming to observe in action.
I counted my blessings that my own loved ones were safe. My children had been away at the time, and my husband was ensconced on the terrace in relative security. Every morning, he had used fresh rain water to clean up. And he had read, slept and stayed nourished on nothing but my muesli! In fact, when boats began to float down my neighbourhood, rescuing stranded people, he had happily waved the remaining packet at the aid workers and told them he would be fine, and to save the space on the boat for someone in more need!
This was a comforting thought when I was confronted by my kitchen. The sight is emblazoned in my memory and I hope to never again encounter anything like it. All the doors were off their hinges, all the utensils strewn about. The dirty water had subsided, but had left a terrible stench and unsightly stains. My refrigerator had literally floated off and settled down at an angle against the wall. My best and oldest oven was thoroughly soaked, and my blender, a prized possession, was among the scattered appliances.
I flopped down on the filthy floor and tried to understand how and where to begin. And I realised that re:store, like me, is resilient. The first thing I needed to do was to join the rehabilitation efforts going on around the city.
Slowly, as the city got back on its feet, I too fixed my kitchen. My trusted orange-in-vinegar (which you may have read about here) held me in good stead, as did the carpenter and appliance repair shop. It was a long process getting the re:store kitchen back to the spick and span, vanilla-scented, invigorating space that it is, but it contained great learnings and insights. I counted my blessings at every moment, even elbow-deep in dirty utensils, and as I look back on the year since then and all the growth and positive changes I have enjoyed, and been fortunate to see in others, I am grateful.
And for the sustenance it provided in a difficult time, that muesli in particular will always have a special place on the re:store menu. Don’t forget that if you’re in Chennai (and soon, Bangalore too), you can order this muesli, and a range of artisanal baked goods and nourishing salads. Drop me a line. I’d love to hear from you at indulgeatrestore[at]gmail[dot]com or on 098840 70315. There’s always a fresh batch of something coming together in the re:store kitchen. I’m hoping the next one’s for you.
