Eating to Live or Living to Eat? A Slice of Life We Often Ignore

Eating to Live or Living to Eat? A Slice of Life We Often Ignore

We’ve all heard the phrase “Eat to live, don’t live to eat.” But have you ever really felt what it means?

I never thought I’d say this, but food the thing I never craved has become the one thing I now dream of the most.
Until a few months ago, food for me was just a routine eat the right portion, at the right time, nothing more. I didn’t crave food, I didn’t obsess over dishes I just ate to live.
Then I met two people. They were food lovers in the purest sense not just eaters, but feelers. They made me look at food differently. For the first time in my life, I began enjoying food, not just consuming it. The flavours felt warmer, the moments around meals felt richer, and my connection with food grew deeper.
And just when I started falling in love with it… life took it away.

Due to some health issues, I’ve been told to avoid no, strictly avoid most of the things I love.
No fried. No spicy. No oily. No sweets.
And suddenly, the world of food became a world of fear.
I walk past my favourite food stalls like a ghost.
Indore’s famous poha-jalebi? I looked at it, smelled it… and walked away.
On Eid, kebabs lay on the table like old friends I could no longer hug.
It’s been over a month since I’ve tasted biryani the one dish that once healed even my worst days.
And you know the funniest-saddest part?
I still have three months of Zomato Gold membership left.
Yes, technically I can order healthy food.
But let’s be honest who opens Zomato to order steamed broccoli? (muhtaram, only you can do such things.)

As if this wasn’t enough, everyone I know has suddenly turned into a health expert (Health Guru).
"Apple cider vinegar with warm water!"
“Start your day with bulletproof coffee.”
“Have you tried chia seed detox?”
I mean… thank you, but I just want to eat some boiled quinoa in peace.

Now, before eating anything even a fruit I have to Google it.
“Can I eat bananas in the evening?”
“Is boiled corn safe in stomach acidity?”
And when Google fails me (which happens more than you'd think), I call my doctor or friends.
“Hey, can I eat this?”
“Are cucumbers dangerous now?”
It’s exhausting.

Back when I started my CA Foundation journey, my teacher told me something I still remember:
“Never compromise on one thing in life your health. How will you study if you are not well? "Your health" It’s your true wealth.”
I understood that lesson early. But over time, I forgot it.
Work, life, hustle everything took over. And somewhere, I stopped being my own priority.
But this journey has reminded me I am my own responsibility first.
Not anyone else. Not achievements. Not deadlines.
Just me and my health.

In the middle of all this food loss and frustration, there’s a tiny silver lining:
I’ve started cooking.

Every day, I try a new recipe.
No, I’m not excited about it.
And no, I’m not making biryani because I can’t even eat it.
But I’m trying.

I’m learning to cook with care, maybe even with a little love.
And no one can say I’m just surviving on boiled food.
I know how to make ragi, jowar, and bajra rotis do you?
If not, then don’t call it “just boiled food.”

I’m learning to enjoy the process.
I’m learning that feeding myself is not just about eating
It’s about nurturing. About self-care.

And you know what? That’s a big win.

A few months ago, my close friend Riya was diagnosed with a stomach infection. It wasn’t serious, but her favorite foods spicy dishes, sweets, even roadside momos were suddenly off-limits.

I still remember us at a cafe. I had my coffee and sandwich she just smiled and said, “You eat, I’ll have warm water.” That smile carried more pain than words the kind that comes when life quietly takes away your small joys.
Back then, I sympathised.
But now… I understand.
Because now, I cry over kadhas.
They taste horrible how can anyone expect me to drink that? I don’t even like black coffee or black tea. But still… I drink it quietly now.
Strangely, I don’t even feel its bitterness anymore. Maybe my taste buds have given up.

It was only on the first day that I cried.. cried a lot, actually. And my daughter cried too, just seeing me like that.

I feel drained when I can’t eat something comforting.
Some nights, I look up and whisper to the universe, “Why am I going through this?”

You know what the worst part is?
It’s not that I can’t eat biryani.
It’s that I want to eat it, and I can’t.
And that’s where psychology steps in.

According to behavioural psychologists, the moment we are told not to do something our brain starts obsessing over it more.
It’s called the “forbidden fruit effect.”
The more I hear “don’t eat this,” the more my brain screams “please eat that!”

And then comes cravings not just from taste, but from emotions.
Food is not just about flavour it’s about comfort, nostalgia, reward.
Sometimes, we eat because we’re happy.
Sometimes, we eat because we’re stressed, tired, lonely, or just… existing.

Right now, I’m emotionally vulnerable.
And in such times, food isn’t just a meal it’s therapy. So being told “you can’t have that” feels like being denied a hug when you need it most.

If you’re reading this while eating your favourite meal slow down.
Enjoy every bite.
Be grateful.
Because somewhere, someone is holding back tears, watching the same dish from a distance.
And to that someone (maybe you, maybe me) I just want to say - This too shall pass. And when it does, the first bite of biryani will taste like heaven.

"This isn’t just a blog. It’s a love letter to biryani, broken taste buds..."