Kitchen—one place in Indian households delineated as a space for women. Men, by free will or forced socialisation into patriarchy, are placed far away from all spaces near the great Indian kitchen. Since I was a young child growing up in a village household, I have only seen the kitchen occupied by women in my household.
Now, every once in a while, when I go back home on vacations, which last for about a month in the whole year, I (now equipped with the so-called modern education) try to amend them. So, I cook the Masala rice, or a curry, every once in a while. But this chore is still very once-in-a-while.
Women, by virtue of their marriage, become free labour for life—all in service for men: cooking for them every three hours, eating (the leftover) once after everyone has eaten, cleaning (dishes, household spaces, and themselves, thereafter), washing their clothes, and, even, making themselves available for sex intended to satiate men. The day begins in service of men—and ends with it. And this is not forced at all. There is no one telling them to do it. It is expected out of them.
By virtue of their marriage, the women are deemed to hold onto the kitchen spaces. In kitchen spaces, they share their most life. They cook, they clean, they eat, they gossip, and they sleep (when the houses are a little too small for other guests to accommodate).
In each instance of socialisation with patriarchy, children, based on their birth, be it a girl or a boy, are trained to do things. If you are a boy, you play out in the sand. If you are a girl, you play with toy kitchenware your father purchased at the village fair. If you are a boy and want to play with the kitchenware, you are hurled slurs as girl-like, and if the girl wishes to play in the sand, you are reprimanded.
In Indian households, girl children are expected to learn cooking and cleaning so as to take up the role of labour in their spouse’s household. Even marriages are treated as a mechanism through which one household labour is either replaced or supplemented by another. Therefore, when relatives speak about marriages, they speak in terms of replacing the household burdens of the mother with a wife. And thereafter, give birth to children, and thereafter, cook, clean, and take care of them, all the while taking care of other household members (the ailing grannies included).
Even the educated ones, the educated ones mainly, follow these dictums religiously. And so, when I watched Jeo Baby’s directional 2021 Malayalam-language movie “The Great Indian Kitchen”, I felt a sense of unease in terms of how even the educated tend to ignore and normalise gender dynamics that sustain traditional households in India.
A young dancer (played by Nimisha Sajayan) is recently married to a teacher (played by Suraj Venjaramoodu) in a patriarchal household in a town in Kerala. Initially, her domestic routine as a wife begins in sweet bliss: a loving husband, nonetheless. But, day after day, with cooking and cleaning, things just take a wrong turn.
The filth of the utensils and leaking taps, the over-demanding father-in-law (who never wears a shirt all through the movie, expecting her to not cook rice in a cooker, wash clothes by hand, and not in the washing machine, and dictates her not to apply for any jobs), and the husband (who, initially, seemed all loving and caring, is inherently patriarchal: ego-maniac, who expects the wife to clean his filth and that of his father, and all the while, expect her not complain about it).
Patriarchy is so imbued in the household that the mother-in-law (who had completed postgraduation before her marriage) brings a brush and toothpaste to the father-in-law, who is sitting and reading a newspaper. And then, in another scene, the father-in-law announces he is going out, and the mother-in-law brings him the flip-flops for him to wear. In another, the wife is forbidden from cooking and cleaning when she is on her period as it is considered impure. She is asked to hole up in a room where no one comes in contact with her and is asked to bathe in the river, eat separately, and wash everything she touches.
Even as these things transpire in the household, Kerala is grappling with the Sabarimala temple verdict, where the court decides that menstruation is not impure and women should be allowed to visit the temple. Her family, for all their patriarchal bluster, disapproves of the verdict.
“The Great Indian Kitchen” has explored themes of societal expectations of marriage and of women’s place in Indian households. Its narration is subtle and evocative. The movie critiques the social norms ascribed to women and the systemic inequalities that they are expected to endure. It also critically examines how patriarchy both structures and reinforces a happy family life and the duties of women in its sustenance.
Both the leads, Nimisha Sajayan and Suraj Venjaramoodu, have delivered a stunning and nuanced performance. The cinematography is brilliant, deliberately evoking spaces that escape an eye in everyday households, the struggles and woes of a newlywed woman, and the depiction of the kitchen as a prison-like, non-escapable space is just too good.
“The Great Indian Kitchen” is a thought-provoking narration of the deep-seated social norms of an Indian wife. It is just done brilliantly. Recently, this movie has been remade in a 2024 Hindi-language film, “Mrs”, discussing the woes of a newlywed woman in a patriarchal household.
Watch the movie if you haven’t already 🙂