WHY YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT TO EAT?
- Madhukar Dama
- May 11
- 10 min read
A brutally honest Indian mirror to your lifelong food confusion
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I. HUMANS: THE ONLY ANIMAL THAT LOST ITS TONGUE
Every animal knows what to eat.
A camel doesn’t debate salt.
A monkey doesn’t need a glycemic chart.
A cow doesn’t pray before chewing grass.
They eat. They feel. They stop.
But you?
You have a refrigerator full of packets, a kitchen full of rituals, a head full of theories —
and a gut full of confusion.
You don’t know what to eat.
Not because food is complicated — but because you were trained to forget.
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II. YOU WERE BORN WITH KNOWING. THEN SOMEONE TOOK IT.
Your body knew. But your culture didn’t care.
Your mother forced feeding in the name of love.
Your teacher punished you for eating outside the bell.
Your priest told you that onions corrupt the soul.
Your caste taught you that touch pollutes.
Your school served white bread and sugar water.
Your uncle ridiculed your food choices at weddings.
Your in-laws imposed their kitchen laws.
Your body was silenced.
Your hunger was hijacked.
You stopped eating from instinct.
You started eating from obedience.
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III. THIS DIDN’T START WITH YOU — IT’S HISTORICAL
When colonialism arrived, your food was labeled dirty.
When Green Revolution came, your crops were replaced by marketable grains.
When famine hit, survival replaced balance.
When cities grew, the tongue stopped speaking.
When caste politics deepened, sharing food became shame.
When upward mobility arrived, identity replaced taste.
You didn’t just lose recipes.
You lost permission to trust your body.
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IV. HUNGER WAS MADE SHAMEFUL. FULLNESS WAS MADE VIRTUE.
You were told:
“Eat before guests.”
“Finish what’s on the plate.”
“Don’t waste food — be grateful.”
“More ghee means more love.”
“Don’t touch food with your left hand.”
“Don’t fast — you’ll fall sick.”
So you never learned how to listen to your stomach.
You only learned how to impress, obey, and pretend.
Now you eat on time, not in tune.
You eat out of mood, not need.
You eat with guilt, not joy.
You eat with speed, not presence.
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V. FOOD BECAME EVERYTHING EXCEPT FOOD
It became:
A currency of love
A weapon of family power
A badge of class
A ritual of purity
A revenge of boredom
A compensation for silence
A display of success
A replacement for touch
No one asked how your body feels after eating.
They only asked: Did you take second serving?
Because in India, overeating is seen as a sign of hospitality, not harm.
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VI. THE COST: YOU LOST THE LANGUAGE OF THE BODY
Your body still speaks.
But you don’t listen.
Your tongue rejects artificial taste, but you call it "acquired."
Your gut bloats after wheat, but you blame stress.
Your skin breaks out after dairy, but you cover it with cream.
Your breath smells post-meal, but you buy mouthwash.
Your poop floats, sinks, stinks — and nobody told you it’s a report card.
You don’t need a health tracker.
You need a mirror inside your gut.
But no one taught you how to use it.
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VII. A STORY THEY NEVER TOLD YOU
Your great-grandmother never had a diet chart.
She fasted when her body asked.
She ate what grew in her soil.
She crushed, pounded, soaked, fermented, sun-dried.
She wiped her fingers on her saree and ate in silence.
She had no recipe book, but her gut flora was perfect.
Now you drink imported almond milk while taking antibiotics for constipation.
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VIII. EVEN ANIMALS EAT BETTER THAN YOUR CHILD
In villages today, cows still chew with patience.
Goats choose bitter leaves when they’re ill.
Birds pick the ripest fruit, not the trendiest.
But your child?
Eats cereal while watching screens.
Swallows sugar disguised as protein.
Is bribed with chocolate to obey.
Eats 5 times a day, but doesn’t know what hunger feels like.
You were fed, but never nourished.
You were controlled, not cared for.
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IX. HOW TO COME BACK TO KNOWING
Enough confusion.
You don’t need another health app.
You need a slow morning and an honest stomach.
Here’s how:
1. Eat with your hands. Feel the texture.
2. Chew until taste disappears. That’s your stop signal.
3. Watch your poop. It tells the truth.
4. Eat with silence, alone. No stories. No distractions.
5. Fast sometimes. Not for weight, for wisdom.
6. Taste before thinking. Let your tongue decide, not a rulebook.
7. Cook from scratch. Even if just once a week.
8. Eat local, seasonal, simple. This isn’t nostalgia. It’s biology.
9. Grow one edible plant. Observe its timing. You’ll understand your own.
10. Ask your elders what they ate when they felt sick. You’ll hear forgotten truths.
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CLOSING TRUTH
You don’t know what to eat —
Because you were taught to eat like a slave —
To rituals, to family egos, to caste, to trends, to fear.
But inside you, there’s still a body that remembers.
A body that wants to thrive.
A body that’s waiting for you to shut out the noise —
and listen.
Not to a recipe.
Not to a guru.
Not to a label.
But to your own bowel, breath, and blood.
You don’t need a diet. You need a reunion.
—
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HEALING DIALOGUE: “WHY YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO EAT?”
A brutally real and emotionally packed dialogue between a large, middle-class Indian family and Madhukar the Healer. Based entirely on the essay you created earlier. No deviations. No dramatics. Only truth.
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Characters
Kailash (47) – Father. High BP. Watches food videos. Follows contradictory diet trends.
Rani (45) – Mother. Worries constantly. Obsessed with feeding. Tired and emotional.
Kusuma (70) – Grandmother. Religious, deeply rooted in traditional food taboos.
Abhinav (20) – Son. College-going. Watches fitness and vegan influencers. Confused.
Priya (16) – Daughter. Acne, mood swings. Doesn’t trust any food. Eats junk when alone.
Madhukar (65) – The Healer. A quiet, off-grid, ex-scientist turned guide.
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Setting
A warm afternoon. The family has gathered in Madhukar’s courtyard made of sun-dried mud. Tamarind trees shade the area. A wood-fired stove simmers in the corner. The family has brought their food items, diet charts, supplements, and worries. They sit cross-legged. A plate of ragi mudde, fresh greens, and raw coconut chutney sits untouched in front of them.
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Madhukar (gazing at the full plate):
So… why haven’t you eaten?
Kailash:
We weren’t sure if it’s okay for my pressure. They say ragi increases BP. Some say it reduces.
Rani:
And whether Priya should eat raw coconut. Her acne got worse last time. Also, Abhinav doesn’t eat anything cooked anymore. Only raw.
Abhinav (browsing his phone):
That’s what most of the new research says. Cooked food destroys enzymes.
Kusuma (sternly):
This is why your stomach burns. And don’t eat garlic today — it’s Saturday. You people have forgotten all rules.
Priya (irritated):
Everyone says different things. Appa says millet, Ajji says rice, Amma says oats, Akka says salad. I just eat Maggi in peace.
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Madhukar (quietly):
So many voices. One mouth.
So many rules. No hunger.
So many foods. One fear.
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Kailash (softly):
We just don’t know anymore.
Every time we choose something, someone tells us it’s wrong.
Madhukar:
That’s because you outsourced your hunger.
To scientists.
To priests.
To influencers.
To packet backsides.
To blood tests.
To family drama.
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Rani (teary-eyed):
But we are trying. We are so scared. One day we hear rice is poison. Next day, wheat. Then bananas. Then oil. Then even water timings.
Madhukar:
Trying to eat while fearing food… is like trying to breathe while fearing air.
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Abhinav:
But isn’t there one right diet?
Madhukar:
There is only one right signal — hunger.
Not emotional hunger. Not clock hunger. Not religious hunger.
Real, belly-based, post-excretion, calm hunger.
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Kusuma (defensive):
But we must follow some rules. Ekadashi. Fasting days. Forbidden combinations. These protect us.
Madhukar:
Rules are beautiful — when they arise from inner intelligence.
But when they are memorized and blindly obeyed… they become a cage.
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Priya:
I don't even feel hungry anymore. I eat because someone says “it's time.” Or because I hate my skin. Or because I’m lonely.
Madhukar:
That is the modern food story.
No hunger. Only noise.
---
Madhukar now brings out a small handwritten list. He reads aloud.
> “20 REASONS WHY YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO EAT”
1. Religion over biology
2. Foreign science over local instinct
3. Over-reliance on food influencers
4. Excess diagnosis-based eating
5. Fear of natural hunger
6. Superstitions in disguise
7. Confusing food with punishment or control
8. Emotional manipulation through food
9. Worship of brands over simplicity
10. Family pressure
11. Religious fasting without clarity
12. Digital distractions
13. Nutrient obsession without digestion
14. Eating without chewing
15. Snacking as escape
16. Skipping meals to impress
17. Worshipping low-calorie myths
18. Blind belief in Ayurveda without experience
19. Misunderstanding detox
20. Forgetting joy
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Madhukar (folds the paper):
Each of you is carrying five or six of these confusions in your pocket.
That’s why your plate looks full, but your mind is starving.
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Kailash:
Then what’s the way out?
Madhukar:
Silence.
Rani:
What do you mean?
Madhukar:
Silence before eating.
Silence between bites.
Silence while chewing.
Silence after swallowing.
Only then you will hear what your body wants.
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Abhinav:
So there’s no one diet?
Madhukar (smiling):
There’s no one hunger.
Every season is a diet.
Every poop is a report.
Every bowel sound is science.
Every sweat is Ayurveda.
Every craving is a teacher.
Every meal is a prayer — if you’re listening.
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Priya:
I want to listen again. I’m tired of being scared of food.
Kusuma (after a pause):
I’ll make rice tomorrow. No arguments.
Rani:
Let’s all eat together again. Just once a day. Quietly. As one family. No phones. No shouts. No science.
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Madhukar (nodding):
That’s it. That’s the cure.
Eat together. In peace.
With real hunger.
Everything else will heal.
—
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YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO EAT, DO YOU?
(A scream from a dying kitchen)
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you don’t know what to eat
because your grandmother said no garlic
and your influencer said yes spirulina
and your nutritionist said no rice
and your body said feed me
but nobody listened.
you don’t know what to eat
because religion walked into the kitchen
and threw out the onions
but kept the deep-fried sugar on festival days.
faith sat on your plate
but hunger left the room.
you don’t know what to eat
because food became status
you don’t cook anymore
you curate
you plate
you post.
you don’t know what to eat
because your doctor gave you
a list longer than your tongue
and half the words weren’t edible.
you don’t know what to eat
because they turned millet into a fashion show
and sold you 400 rupee rotis
wrapped in Himalayan packaging
while your village ragi
died in the sun.
you don’t know what to eat
because fear became the chef
fear of fat
fear of carbs
fear of salt
fear of hunger
fear of being human.
you don’t know what to eat
because somebody said
intermittent fasting will give you immortality
and now you’ve been staring at the clock
like a prisoner
waiting for permission to chew.
you don’t know what to eat
because your phone
has more recipes
than your mother’s life.
you don’t know what to eat
because you watched 10 reels
that said 10 opposite things
in 10 seconds
and called it research.
you don’t know what to eat
because you swallowed
“zero sugar”
“high protein”
“low fat”
“gluten free”
and forgot how to chew.
you don’t know what to eat
because you thought
food could be calculated.
as if your intestines went to IIT.
you don’t know what to eat
because your family made it war.
one says rice,
one says wheat,
one says fruit only before 11 AM
and you say
give me poison, at least it's consistent.
you don’t know what to eat
because every grain is now a suspect
every oil a crime scene
every meal an interrogation.
you don’t know what to eat
because someone convinced you
that fullness is a sin
and digestion is just a mechanical function
instead of a sacred process
older than your gods.
you don’t know what to eat
because food is now content
and hunger is just a side effect
of your scrolling thumb.
you don’t know what to eat
because somebody made
Ayurveda a PDF
and turned grandma’s instinct
into an app with ratings.
you don’t know what to eat
because you tried to find your diet
in New York labs
instead of your own toilet bowl.
you don’t know what to eat
because the food pyramid
was drawn by men in suits
paid by sugar kings.
you don’t know what to eat
because you bought
vitamins instead of vegetables
and then asked
why you feel dead.
you don’t know what to eat
because your child cries for biscuits
and you say, just once
because saying no takes energy
you no longer have.
you don’t know what to eat
because food became morality.
green juice = good person
coffee = failure
gulab jamun = shame spiral.
you don’t know what to eat
because someone sold you
the myth of detox
and you believed it
like it was salvation.
you don’t know what to eat
because taste became crime
and chewing became delay
and eating became therapy
and dinner became revenge.
you don’t know what to eat
because food became
a thousand whispers in your head
but none of them
sounded like you.
you don’t know what to eat
because you haven’t been hungry in years
you’ve only been obedient
and anxious.
you don’t know what to eat
because you forgot
how to sit down,
touch your food,
thank your soil,
and chew slowly
without guilt.
you don’t know what to eat
because you’ve eaten everything
except silence.
you don’t know what to eat
because the kitchen is dead
and the stomach is lonely
and the table is a battlefield
and the mind is a garbage dump
of borrowed rules.
you don’t know what to eat
because you tried to be perfect
and forgot how to be human.
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