New Delhi: There was a time in India, when Sundays were synonymous with family. Whether it was in a joint family sprawling across generations or a nuclear family tightly knit around immediate members, there was always an unspoken agreement that Sunday lunches were sacred. No one needed to be reminded. Not the ambitious son grappling with corporate power plays or struggling to finish a work deadline on his laptop or the daughter (in law) dealing with the pressures of balancing her career and household. And certainly not the grandkids, eager to slip away to their gadgets. When dadima called for lunch, it wasn’t with a calendar invite or a text message. Everyone simply knew that it was time to gather – no titles, no pretences, just family.
It’s easy to wax nostalgic about those times now, but there was something special about those meals. It wasn’t just the food, though of course, it was always delicious. Whether it was dal, sabzi, or the long, slow-cooked biryani – the actual menu didn’t matter. What mattered was the act of sitting together, shoulder to shoulder, across generations, sharing not just food but stories, laughter, and even the occasional disagreement. Everyone had a place at the table, from the elderly grandfather with his quiet wisdom to the youngest cousin, wide-eyed and absorbing the world. It is the shared space and togetherness that make all the difference.
Meals were the original boardrooms
Here, the art of persuasion was honed. The quiet approval of an elder could elevate a youngster’s confidence more than any performance review. Likewise, a stern look could put things in perspective quicker than any corporate review session. In those mealtime gatherings, one learned how to handle different personalities, temper expectations, and advocate for ideas, all while respecting the hierarchy that naturally existed within the family. It wasn’t just a lunch; it was an exercise in diplomacy, negotiation, and relationship management. Only, the stakes weren’t measured in profits or losses but in love and mutual respect.
Somewhere along the way, as we urbanised and industrialised, we moved away from that ethos. The demands of modern life – work deadlines, school schedules, traffic – have squeezed out the space for these slow, meandering family lunches. Mealtime has become transactional, a hurried affair snatched between Zoom calls and WhatsApp messages. But in the process, we’ve lost something invaluable – the richness of connection that comes from simply being together, without the trappings of rank or role.
Many of us grew up in family-rich environments. Not rich in wealth, but rich in people. These were families where several generations lived under one roof, or at least within close proximity. We were surrounded by aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents – a bustling ecosystem of love, support, and occasionally, chaos. There was a sense of belonging that was inherent, and it provided a buffer against the outside world. You always had someone to lean on, someone to advise you, someone to keep you grounded when the going got tough.
Is it all fading away?
Today, in our increasingly individualistic society, that sense of togetherness is fading. The shift from joint families to nuclear ones, and from nuclear families to single units, has been a slow erosion of the communal spirit. Sure, we keep in touch via video calls or family WhatsApp groups, but it’s not the same. You can’t pass the dal or argue about the cricket match through a screen. And no matter how many emojis you use, they can’t replicate the warmth of a shared laugh across the dining table. You just cannot have an e-cousin or a iUncle !
But the beauty of tradition is that it can be revived. We don’t need to wait for a special occasion or a family crisis to bring everyone together. Want to reconnect with family? Start by bringing back the tradition of gathering around the dining table. It doesn’t have to be elaborate – no need for a Michelin-star meal or perfect table settings. It’s the act of being together that matters. If dadima didn’t need a reminder to summon the family, we shouldn’t either. Just pick a day, let go of the pretence, and make it a habit.
In a world that constantly pulls us apart, the simple act of gathering at the family table reminds us that true connection isn’t found in our titles or accomplishments, but in the shared moments of togetherness.
At a time when everything seems to be pulling us apart – our careers, our ambitions, the digital world – the dining table could be the one thing that brings us back together. It’s not just about feeding the body; it’s about nourishing the soul. So, where does one start? Perhaps by clearing our schedules, silencing our phones, and, most importantly, showing up. Just as individuals, no pretences.
(The author is a Policy Researcher & Corporate advisor. He tweets @ssmumbai)
