By Maria Hameed
In the Indo-Pak subcontinent, there’s a quirky little truth that most women know all too well: no matter how many degrees you have, how far you’ve come in your career, or how much you’ve achieved, people will still ask—can you make a perfectly round roti? Yes, ladies, forget your PhDs, your job promotions, or the fact that you’ve balanced work and life like a pro; in many households, your real triumph is judged by the shape of that deceptively simple flatbread.
The “gol roti” (round roti) struggle is about more than just dough—it’s centuries of tradition, family pride, and subtle pressure all rolled into one. Think of it as the ultimate kitchen reality show: “MasterChef Indo-Pak: Roti Edition.” But instead of winning a Michelin star, you’re aiming for the quiet nod of approval from your mother-in-law.
Picture this: a young woman, determined and hopeful, stands in front of a ball of dough. Armed with a rolling pin, she tries to roll the perfect roti, hoping it turns out as round as the moon. But life is cruel, and instead of a flawless circle, she ends up with something resembling a misshapen island. And then it comes—the sighs, the silent judging glances, and the inevitable, “Well, it tastes good at least…”
In many families, making a perfectly round roti is like a rite of passage for women. If you fail, it’s not just the roti that flops—it’s almost as if your status takes a hit too. Society whispers, “Sure, you can win a gold medal in the Olympics, but can you make a round roti?”
Now, here’s where the real humor comes in. In a society that prides itself on fairness, the roti-making challenge is mysteriously reserved for women. Men can stroll into the kitchen, make something that looks more like modern art than food, and still get praised. Burn the edges? “At least he’s trying!” End up with a triangle? “It’s creative!” Meanwhile, women are reminded that the secret to a happy marriage is, apparently, mastering the art of the perfect roti.
Families might say, “Beta, we’re progressive,” but then come the hushed whispers, “How will you impress your in-laws if your rotis look like clouds?”
Thankfully, modern women are starting to see the humor in all of this. Some even joke, “Why does a roti need to be round? If pizza can be square, why can’t my roti be an abstract masterpiece?” And with tandoors on every corner and roti-making machines becoming household heroes, women are realizing there’s no need to break a sweat over dough anymore.
Women are excelling in medicine, law, business, and technology—fields that truly matter—while their rotis remain blissfully imperfect. And really, who cares if it’s a little lopsided when it’s delicious, right?
But beneath the laughter lies a deeper question: does the shape of a roti really define a woman’s value? Shouldn’t we be looking at the bigger picture—at her real contributions to society, to her family, to the world?
Imagine the next family gathering:
- Auntie #1: “Her roti is square, but she wins every court case!”
- Auntie #2: “I don’t care if her roti looks like a map; she’s the CEO of her company!”
It’s time to move beyond these outdated expectations. After all, no job interview has ever started with, “Tell us about your roti-making skills.” (Well, unless you’re applying at a restaurant.)
The “gol roti” dilemma may continue to be a lighthearted struggle, but we can laugh at its absurdity while recognizing that women should be valued for far more than the shape of their rotis. And hey, if your roti isn’t perfectly round, just call it “artisanal”—because everything sounds more impressive with that word.
So, the next time someone comments on your roti, smile and say, “It’s not about the shape of the roti, it’s about the shape of your dreams!”
Maria Hameed is an MPhil Mass Communication student with a robust background in communication studies, research methods, and social issues. She offers expert analysis and insightful commentary on contemporary media trends and challenges facing today’s youth.
Maria brings a unique cultural perspective to her work, enriching her contributions with a blend of academic rigor and cultural insight.
