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Chef Vikas Khanna on how he single-handedly fed millions of Indians during the pandemic

His book Barkat is an evocative portrayal of his momentous feat

Michelin-starred chef, Vikas Khanna, who runs Indian fine-dining restaurant Kinara at JA Lake View Hotel in Dubai, has come with the book Barkat: The Inspiration and the story behind one of the world’s largest food drives, Feed India.

Barkat means abundance. An abundance of blessings and auspiciousness. Where there is no dearth and there is no scarcity, that’s Barkat. It’s a much bigger word than can be translated in English.

Khanna, who grew up in Amritsar, single-handedly conceived the Feed India campaign at the height of the Covid-19 pandemic in April, 2020, from his leafy penthouse in New York.

He narrates how his grandmother infused in him the values of sharing food, while the community kitchen of the Golden Temple taught him how no one goes hungry even at the worst of times.

This deeply personal and heart-touching narrative is a testimony of Khanna’s vision to showcase Indian culture and the intrinsic value of sharing food to the world.

wknd. spoke to Khanna about his humane touch.

Edited excerpts from the interview:

How did you manage to do the logistics for Feed India since you were based in New York?

The logistics for Feed India was one of the most challenging projects in my life. It was not just being in a remote location and running an entire operation in so many different parts of the country. It was more about emotional distress, putting the teams together and also understanding how we can bring in sponsors and promoters on board in a logical way. That was very difficult. That’s what we call the first chapter of planning. Of course, we knew we had to get the food out to millions of needy people. However, from the very beginning I’ve had an idea that it would grow into something bigger because of the nature of the Covid-19 pandemic and the fear and panic it was creating in the minds of the people. The biggest challenge for us was the different time zones. I often wake up in the middle of the night in New York and think that I’ve overslept because it’s morning back home in India and I need to coordinate something. Those fears are still ingrained in my mind because of the nature of the work that needs to be done immediately. Perhaps, my presence in New York also helped us from a logistical point of view. For instance, when India would go off to sleep, we’d have a few hours to plan in advance for the next day’s events such as the logistics of procuring rations, food drives and also the distribution mechanism.

What inspired you to mount this humanitarian campaign?

The inspiration of Feed India came from my mother. She lives in Amritsar. She was watching news on TV one evening, which deeply affected her. Soon, I called and told her that it’d be a very difficult project. She said what you could do, you must do to out. She told me whatever you have achieved at home or abroad, it’s all because of India. Though these were not her exact words, I understood her emotions that it was a cumulation of all of us — the culture, the cuisine. This was the first time she said she needed me to stand up and be counted to support my country. The very thought inspired me that I’m going to do it for my home. It’s not a favour but a duty.

How would you like to remember April 1, 2020? Share the backstory of the campaign and how you conceived it.

On April 1, 2020, we started Feed India on a very small scale. Procuring the ration and getting it distributed was the biggest challenge. My logic was not to have a single loophole in the entire operation. But our first delivery itself got lost somewhere near Bengaluru. It was rather frustrating because it was a traumatic experience. The recipient blocked us on WhatsApp and we couldn’t get in touch with him. We felt that it was not humanly possible that we were buying stuff from so far away and depending on people to get it distributed to old age homes, orphanages and leprosy centres. This is how we started out with Feed India. I thought that the project was a non-starter and I’d need to get back to my work. So, I called my mother and told her on April 11 that I’d not be able to do this. I explained to her that it was not humanly possible to execute something like this from so far away. If I were in India, I could’ve done a better job such as tracking down local people in the same time zone. I didn’t tell her specifically what had happened. But I told her that I was demoralised. Then she reminded me of my childhood days when I used to cut and burn myself but I would refuse to give up. My grandmother would tell my mother that these scars would become my strength. She’d say that this was important for a child to repeatedly hone his/her skills. Truth be told, nobody in the world can become a master of Indian cuisine. However, her logic was that you’d find happiness in it. But if a journey is so excruciating, you’d need to find a way to stand by your beliefs. This is what actually pushed me to persist with the Feed India campaign. I had come to terms with failure, but giving up was not an option. So, from a single person, it gathered momentum and became a movement.

How is Barkat ingrained in South Asian culture?

Barkat is an Arabic word, which loosely translates to abundance, blessings. It’s like the Hindi word sewa, which is often lost in translation, as there is so much more. My grandmother used to say in Punjabi that your blessings come from your intentions (niyat). This is amazing, as more than the actions the repercussions of your actions are immense. Feed India is a logistical operation. I realised we had to find a way to understand the concept of this ideal behind barkat. This was the guiding principle behind our work. Our intentions were in the right spirit. We had to find a way to support our country to cater to the people’s basic necessities at that point in time. Our job was to ensure food reaches the needy people. That’s why the word barkat came to my mind several times during the course of our campaign.

I gather one of the strange places in your home was this locked room in the attic, which stored lots of huge pots—brass, iron—big ladles, and huge cauldrons. Give us a sense of that room and how did you take to it?

Like many joint Indian family homes, there would be a room that’s not open to everyone. It was not even locked, but it was not a part of our daily routine like a kitchen, a dining room, bedrooms or shared spaces. This was a room that would be locked at times and also had a storage facility. There was this room in the attic that had huge utensils made out of metallic alloy, brass. That was my most fascinating room as nobody in my family was interested in it. I was fascinated by the sheer size of those pots. Those days, there were no banquet halls or caterers. We used to share these pots with families in town for celebrations such as a wedding, a religious congregation for them to throw a lavish feast. She had another interesting story that my father shared with us. My father was born during the Partition in 1947. He would say my grandfather would cook big meals to ensure nobody goes hungry during the traumatic Partition days. So, these pots had a very emotional context for her. No wonder, I was so attached to the attic in my formative years. Everybody had a favourite story about these pots, which were dented, scarred and discarded several times. We’ve put them together as a legacy and our shared culture. This became an inspiration for my museum as these pots had so much character and told so many stories. So, when we visit the museum, I feel this is who we’re as a country. The abundance of cooking in our hearts even though we’re becoming nuclear families. This is a reminder of our roots. Perhaps, a second generation from now on, may not have a reference about what I’m talking about when we take many things in life for granted. You don’t need a whole community to come together to celebrate a small occasion.

Tell us how your grandmother infused in you the values of sharing food and the community kitchen of the Golden Temple in your native Amritsar showed you that no one goes hungry.

My grandmother was a very powerful woman. She was an ocean of secrets. She knew everybody who was going through pain in our extended family or our colony in Amritsar. But she would never talk about them in public. She was always there to stand up for them. She believed in sharing and caring. Her sense of sharing came from the tenets of Sikhism in Amritsar’s Golden Temple, where a community kitchen is run. This is quite interesting since we belong to a Hindu family. Her innate belief was not to judge people but to feed them. She’d often get strangers home, and cook and feed them.

The bags of ration were sent to the Golden Temple because she always believed that everyone has enough if we share. I’m proud to be raised in a joint family, where such values were instilled in me at a tender age. I feel very fortunate to be raised by my grandparents.

What next after this momentous feat?

It has to be most significant. I take up projects not because of their scale but for relevance at that point in time. For instance, my latest book, Back to our Root: Recipes from the Holistic Kitchen, was unveiled at India Pavilion in Expo 2020 Dubai on January 27.

joydeep@khaleejtimes.com