Illustration by Suman Choudhury

It?s difficult to miss the simmering determination in Sandeep Karka?s eyes. Outside, as the rest of Bhatinda scurries for cover on a white-hot afternoon, the 24-year-old goes about his daily ritual with uncanny equanimity. Spatula in hand, the gaunt lad waits silently as the butter in the frying pan melts to a rich golden-brown. One spots a dollop of hope floating in it.

Back home, in the wind-swept hamlet of Kotbhai, there?s disdain among Karka?s folks over his new vocation. ?But there?s nothing here for a graduate like me,? muses the Jat, reaching for the diced mushrooms that mutely await a culinary sacrifice. ?My friend Keval went to work in a London restaurant in December. He?s already moved into a flat of his own. Mujhe to Amreeka jaana hai.? His voice rises above the shrieks let out by the perishing fungi, as they are rapidly consumed by the heat.

An exodus is on the cards across the dusty Malwa plains of south-western Punjab. Stung by the bollworm and the emigration bug, the youth of the land have ventured out of their cotton plantations to don the chef?s toque. The greener Occident is the place to go, but steering a yellow taxi through downtown New York is not an option. The more respectable way to the collective West?s heart now lies through its stomach.

And for every dream, there is a merchant. Rana Cooking School is little more than a kitchen-cum-classroom that looks out onto the tiny but well-pruned lawn of Brijinder Dutt?s one-storeyed house. Like a few other ?schools? to have mushroomed in Bhatinda of late, it unravels to 15-odd youngsters the mysteries of butter chicken, malai kofta, garlic mushroom, paneer jhalfrezi, you name it. All for a price, though.

But ?Rs 12,000 is very reasonable, don?t you think?? asks the amiable lady, proceeding to explain why. Desi cooks are much in demand abroad, she emphasises. For a trained hand, there?s anything between $1,800 to $2,500 per month for the taking in Marlboro Country. ?Food free; room also, sometimes.? Not a bad return on the initial investment, she concludes. ?And it?s less than what the others charge, after all.?

The numbers game is on. With more and more youngsters lining up for a ticket to kitchens in the West, each school has begun to harp on its own merits to net candidates from the hinterland. So while Dutt bills a decent sum, Garg Institute?s proprietor Rajinder Garg claims that it trains students to toss up three-star fare. ?Part of this package also includes preparing the students for the rigorous visa procedures,? he adds, possibly as a USP.

Not that it matters, though. For the boys keep coming anyway. And it?s easy to see why. ?Over the past decade, repeated bollworm attacks have wreaked havoc in south-western Punjab, 90 per cent of which thrives on cotton farming,? says Bhatinda-based agronomist G.S. Buttar. G.S. Chahal, additional director of research, Punjab Agricultural University, lets figures speak. ?When produce plummets to 200 kg per hectare from the usual 600 kg, things can be bad,? he explains.

Keeping up with the pestilential onslaught, combined with recurring debts, has been a traumatic experience for most local farmers. Needless to say, few of the new-generation Jats want to follow in their fathers? footsteps.

?However, my brother is into kheti ? he can help out in the fields once I am gone,? ponders Sukhvinder Singh, drying his palms after a laborious session in the kitchen. ?I also have a younger brother. He?s still in school,? comes the addendum, seemingly to further justify his untimely flight to foreign shores. ?There?s more money there,? Sukhvinder reasons. ?I am going to settle abroad. Anyhow.?

There?s a note of despair in Sukhvinder?s voice. Tinged with escapism. But for Malwa?s broad-shouldered boys, ?bon appetit? suddenly sounds sweeter than the tinkling of a cowbell in the distance. The tables are laid elsewhere, and responsibilities can wait. At least for the time being.