Food serves as the nourishing spirit of Shiva Baby, a wild, unpredictable, and unnerving ride whose witty dialogue and darkly humorous setting are sorely reminiscent of TV series like Fleabag and BoJack Horseman.
In the last three weeks, as I have tried to write this essay on different days, it has continued to elude me. First, I was crumbling physically and mentally in the throes of the virus. My frail body had gone weaker than ever before. I kept underestimating it, treating it like a seasonal flu, as my parents in the hinterland, 400 kilometers away from Delhi, thought about their cases.