My Bread Story…1

My Bread Story…1

251
2

Unlike most days, where I woke up quite mindlessly, today seemed, even felt a little different…I was more in tune with myself than most mornings…and as I re-entered the kitchen, after my sunrise tea…I could see the beauty and the magic of bread come alive…

I was creating and witnessing a transformation or a few transformations, in manners I had never seen or even understood before…even though I had been rolling out the same bread for the past 18 years…I had learnt to roll-out and bake the bread, I had yet to learn to see the bread…

…and here I had poured out the free-flowing dough…every little spec of powder scattered, just like the grains of sand/ salt…and yet as I poured water, like clay it started coming in together, was not as free-flowing, but was a little restricted in its movement, it had gotten heavy (maybe it felt burdened)…and as I began kneading it, a sort of mould-able mound began to take shape…and suddenly I had this epiphany…

Every spec of that powdered flour was Completely Incomplete… and maybe, it would have been complete, had we been able to consume, the raw flour in its rawest form…which I had attempted, only to bear its raw consequences…unfortunately, since we haven’t learnt the process of consuming it, in its most natural form…I had to transform it and even restrict it, constrict it…given my own needs or desires…and even then I couldn’t consume it, which I still tried, enhancing the aggravating discomfort of my digestive system…

and flashed the 2nd realisation…
• We are all individual spec of that powder, free-flowing in the beginning and then like the dough we all come together, bind together, even are restricted and confined together…till we/ the dough is stretched, rolled out and moulded again…and even then, it cannot be consumed until it’s baked or put under the flames…

The transformation of the grain of wheat, that gets crushed to become the free-flowing flour, to it being moulded even pounded and being restricted, to being baked and then even being discarded the next day…also showed me the fragile beauty of our life…

The beauty and the beastliness…of our existence, of our sustenance, thrives on finding the rhythm between the ME (I) and the WE and even in realising that transformation lies in the death, the release of one form into the other…for unless we are willing to reinvent ourselves time and again, we will remain the grain of wheat, the unattached powdered flour or the attached bundle of dough…inedible and indigestible…

If a grain of Wheat is willing to undergo Transformation, Reinvention, Recreation time and again…why are we so unwilling to transform…why are we so unwilling to let go of the Dent’s in the I of our Identities???

Can we not learn better, even from things we consider inanimate ???…

Vaishali…

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes:

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

×

Hello!

Click on our representatives below to chat on WhatsApp or send us an email to ubi.unitedbyink@gmail.com

× How can I help you?