Ten minutes into the conversation with Jeo Baby and I am completely floored. He is talking in detail about the time he spends in the kitchen, about the endless process of making a meal, cleaning and tidying, feeding children, about avoiding dinner invitations by friends, simply at the thought of women slaving in the kitchens and advising nieces about the patriarchal traps awaiting them in a marriage and I feel like I am talking to a woman friend or as if I am hearing excerpts from a conversation I had with a woman friend. It’s uncanny how deeply and profoundly this man has understood and empathised with women.
What you are hearing is not a pretentious, pedantic observation of a newly baptized woke man, but that of someone who has lived and experienced the drudgery of domesticity, like a woman. By choice, of course. That’s exactly why he was able to make a film like The Great Indian Kitchen with such nuance. And why a large number of women are writing heartfelt essays about the film which they feel are