KU UG Sem3 Unit-2: KITCHEN - By VIMALA (poem and summary)

 Kakatiya University- UG English - Semester-III

UNIT2: GENDER ROLES

KITCHEN:   by  VIMALA

Poem:

I remember the kitchen's,

Flavor upon flavor,

A mouth-watering treasury,

Pungence of seasonings,

And the aroma of incense

From the prayer room Next door. 

Each morning the kitchen awoke

To the swish of churning butter

The scraping of scoured pots.

And in the centre, the stove,

Fresh washed with mud, painted

And bedecked, all set to burn.

 

We saved secret money in the

seasoning box, hid sweets too,

and played at cooking with lentils and

We played Mother and Father,

In magic world kitchen

That wrapped childhood in spell.

No longer playground for the grownup girl

Now trained into kitchenhood.

Like all the mother and mothers’ mothers

Before her, in the kitchen

She becomes woman right here

  

Our Kitchen is a mortuary,

Pans, tins, gunny bags

Crowd it like cadavers

That hang amid clouds damp smoke.

Mother floats, a ghost here,

A floating kitchen herself, her eyes melted in tears,

Her hands worn to spoons,

Her arms spatulas that turn

Into long frying pans, and

Other kitchen tools.

Sometimes Mother glows

Like a blazing furnace,

And burns through the kitchen,

Pacing, restless, a caged tiger,

Banging pots and pans,

How easy, they say,

The flick of a ladle and the cooking 's done

No one visits now.

No one comes to the kitchen except to eat.

 

My mother was queen of the kitchen,

But the name engraved on the pots and pans is Father's

Luck, they say, landed me in my great kitchen,

Gas stove, grinder, sink, and tiles.

I make cakes and puddings,

Not old-fashioned snacks as my mother did.

But name engraved on pots and pans is my husband’s

 

My kitchen wakes

To whistle of pressure cooker,

The whirr of electric grinder.

I am well-appointed kitchen myself,

Turning round like mechanical doll.

My Kitchen is workshop, clattering,

Busy, butcher stall, where I cook

And serve, and clean and cook again.

In dreams, my kitchen haunts me,

My artistic kitchen dreams,

The smell of seasonings even in the jasmine.

 

Damn all kitchens, May they burn to cinders,

Our lives, eat out days- like some enormous vulture

Let us destroy those kitchens

That turned us into serving spoons.

Let us remove the names engraved on the pots and pans.

Come, let us tear out these private stoves,

Before our daughters must step

Solitary into these kitchens.

For our children's sakes,

Let us destroy three lonely kitchens.

--

click here to readtelugu version of the poem kitchen:వంటిల్లు

https://chaibisket.com/telugu-poems-about-indian-women-by-vimala-garu-that-will-melt-your-heart/

Summary:

About the poet: 

The Poem Kitchen is a feministic poem written by Vimala in Telugu and translated into English by BVL Narayana Rao. Telugu version of the poem is vantillu. 

Background: 

The poem is about sufferings of women in the kitchen. They are called as "Rabbits in the kitchen" and imprisoned in the kitchen for ages. They never allowed moving out of kitchen and do jobs or starting business of their own. Moreover, they were not paid for the domestic works. The poet advises women to make the kitchen as part of life, instead their whole life.

Summary:

    The speaker (girl) begins the poem by recalling her memories related to kitchen. The poet describes the daily routine of a mother in the kitchen. Her day begins with kitchen works such as washing the dishes, churning the butter, decorating the stove, cooking food etc.  The memories such as mouth-watering dishes made by her mother; the smell of the seasonings; the aroma of incense sticks from prayer room (usually a part of kitchen); games played with lentils and jiggery; and mother and father game etc., made her to feel the kitchen as a magic or dream world for an unmarried girl. For a grownup girl, the kitchen is no longer playground instead it is a prison. 

    The speaker (girl) is worried about the situation of her mother. She compared the kitchen to a mortuary; her mother to a ghost; all the pans, tins to dead bodies; and the smoke of the kitchen to clouds. The mother of the speaker is compared to a blazing furnace; or a caged tiger that paces in the cage (kitchen) restlessly. The speaker (girl) says that her mother is the queen of the kitchen, but names engraved on the pots and pans are her father's.

She is very sad about the behavior of the family members as no one recognizes her work. They only visit the kitchen to eat. No family member helps her in the kitchen. They have their own works. Husband goes to work, and children to school. They say that “the kitchen job is easy”, her mother is doing nothing. But, No one cares her, No one helps her.

 

    After her marriage, all her family members felt happy because the girl is in a big modern kitchen now. But the speaker (girl) understood that there is no change in her situation when she compared her life to her mother. She has become the rabbit in the new kitchen. Unlike her mother, now she is making new sweets, cakes (instead old fashioned dishes); her day wakes up with whistle of cooker (instead churning of butter), even though the names engraved on the pots and pans are her husband's.

    She (all women like her and her mother) dedicating their entire life to the kitchen. Before marriage the kitchen is seen as dream world, but in fact it is a prison for her. These kitchens are destroying the dreams, ambitions and talents of all the women. Even in the dreams, kitchen haunts them and she feels the smell of seasonings in jasmine. 

Conclusion:

The poet describes how a woman dedicates her entire life to the kitchen. She is suggesting the women to make the kitchens as part of her life, but not the mission of their life. She compared it to mortuary. She is the queen of the kitchen but the names on pots are her father’s or husband’s. No one helps her in the kitchen. No one enters into the kitchen except to eat.

So, finally she warns us not to send our children into these dangerous kitchens which grab the dreams of our children. She urges all the women to come out of kitchens and make the kitchen a part of life (not whole life). She also calls us to remove the names engraved on pots and tins and destroy the lonely kitchens.