Our journalism assignments from the two different professors were stark contrasts. On one hand we were interviewing ourselves, our mothers and sometimes celebrities, the other hand we were documenting our daily lives for Smruti Koppikar.

Micro Stories was a two part series that we did giving glimpses of diverse cultures of our class of 35.

Micro Story One was fairly simple.

Document how rice is made in your house and attach photos to enhance. Either use a lot of photos and lesser words but not more than 300, or the opposite.

30th October 2020

Rice is a staple in our house. Lately, our intake of it has rapidly decreased, to shed some of our excess weight. Yet, the days we do make rice, habitually, we all end up taking two bites or more out of it. I have added three photographs of the storage, and process of rice making.

My mother stores it in a metal container, and uses a metal, medium sized glass called, ‘dabba’ to measure rice. Amongst the four of us, half a ‘dabba’ suffices, on normal days, and other days, just a fistful is enough. After measuring the amount of rice, it is poured into any available utensil to be rinsed. Ma has taught my brother and me to rinse it thrice. Once rinsed, it is poured into the pressure cooker, along with the required amount of water and salt, the cooker is put on
the gas stove. One whistle of the cooker and ten minutes later, the rice is ready.

Once the pressure settles, the cooker is opened and rice is served hot, with gravy made that particular day. The job of cooking rice is not of just one family member. It is a baton passed from the laziest one to the lesser lazy one at that time. The sentence, “Chawal chadha de na, mujhe kantala aa raha.” invites groans and grunts all over, but chawal is eventually ready. That is all from how rice is made in my house.

Simple but staple.