Point of View: "Stop overthinking, start eating without guilt”

The title of the very first section of Rujuta Diwekar’s latest book, The Commonsense Diet, is bound to make more than a few eyebrows shoot up. It’s short, sharp, and surprisingly bold: Diets Don’t Work. Just three words but they pack a punch.

A few pages later, she gives readers another wake up call. Eliminating carbs from your diet, she says, is not the magic pill it’s made out to be. It doesn’t work, just like eliminating fat didn’t work years ago.

One of the most refreshing ideas, and there are several, that she puts forward in the book is this: a diet shouldn’t be some temporary fix to squeeze into a party dress, get toned before summer, or tick off a New Year’s resolution about losing X kgs of weight. It should be something you live by, every single day; a part of your lifestyle, not a punishment.

But perhaps the most powerful takeaway about diets and food came during our chat for Friday. “Eat without guilt,” she said. “Guilt is worse for your health than the food. If you eat something mindfully, you’ll stop when you’re full.”

At a time when IG reels are telling you to chug celery juice at 6am, sprinkle chia seeds on your smoothie, and avoid rice like it’s a toxic ex, Rujuta is telling you to stay calm and eat your dal-chawal (lentils and rice). Yes, the same dal-chawal your grandmother cooked and with a healthy dollop of ghee.

One of the best-known nutritionists globally and wellness advisor to Bollywood’s fittest ― think Kareena Kapoor Khan, Alia Bhatt, and Saif Ali Khan, among others, Rujuta has always believed ― and advocated ― that when it comes to food choices, you don’t need to look further than your own kitchen at home.

It is something that her clients clearly believe in and follow, if their bods and health are anything to go by. Although Rujuta works with several celebs, it is Kareena Kapoor who continues to remain her most well-known client. She worked closely advising the Bollywood star during the movie Tashan, after which Size Zero became a household term. In the foreword to this book, Kareena talks about how post-Tashan, “ghar ka khana (home-cooked food) and bikini bod, once thought of as mutually exclusive, were being spoken about in the same breath.”

The star underscores what Rujuta has been advising all along ― that the foundation of good health “is habits… the habit of eating home-cooked food, exercising, sleeping early and minding one’s business.”

While the online wellness world was busy demonising rice, ghee, and even the humble sugar, Rujuta keeps reiterating and reminding us that our grandmothers knew better. Health, she is convinced, doesn’t lie in fancy powders from Peru or smoothie recipes from Silicon Valley. Instead, it lies in the steaming plate of poha, or idly and coconut chutney (yes, coconut is healthy), and a wholesome meal prepared at home.

Food, she advises, is not meant to be eaten out of packets. Instead, “consume foods that are natural, seasonal and local. Just like your grandmother did”.

In The Commonsense Diet, Rujuta doubles down on what she’s always believed ― and practiced: that good health is not complicated. “In fact, it’s so simple, it’s almost boring,” she says, with a smile. But in a world addicted to complications, “We’ve become so comfortable with comfort that we seek complexity where none exists. We overthink food, because we don’t think through food,” she says.

Rujuta’s roots run deep ― quite literally and metaphorically. “I grew up in a home where growing, harvesting, cooking and sharing food was an everyday affair,” she recalls. “Food wasn’t just about nutrients. It was about connection ― across generations, genders, and geographies.”

That early exposure to food as culture, food as identity, and food as community, shaped her in ways that few diet charts could. Add to that a lifelong involvement in yoga and Ayurveda, and you begin to see where the roots of her philosophy lie. But before diving further, let’s get one thing straight: Rujuta is not anti-science. She’s simply anti-silliness. And the wellness industry, she argues, thrives on silliness mostly by creating food villains and then selling food heroes.

“In every decade there’s a new villain. First it was rice. Then roti. Butter. Then ghee. Now it’s sugar. And suddenly, they find a hero ― something with an exotic name that costs a bomb ― and tell you this is the answer.”

Rujuta doesn’t need to name names, but we can guess: quinoa, kale, goji berries, oat milk, protein bars with ingredients that sound like chemistry experiments.

So, what’s your idea of superfood? I ask.

“Whatever our grandma ate. In season. Made fresh. At home,” she says. “Superfoods are foods that are local, versatile and blend with the ecology of the region you belong to. So in India the superfoods we have include banana, ghee, turmeric, nutmeg, jackfruit, and sugarcane.”

This isn’t just nostalgia talking. The best-selling health author whose books have sold close to two million copies worldwide backs it with data and logic. “In Brazil, researchers found that homes with butter, salt, and sugar were healthier than those without them. Why? Because those homes cooked more. It’s not about the ingredient, it’s about the context.”

Perhaps the most radical idea Rujuta offers is this: health is not about weight.

“For too long we have equated being healthy with being thin,” says the post graduate in sports science and nutrition. “But your healthiest weight at age 20 won’t be the same at age 40 or age 60. Health is about keeping the body functional and fit, not about squeezing into a certain size.” In fact, The Lancet’s latest redefinition of obesity, she points out, proves that optimal health can exist at a range of weights and sizes.

So when she says ‘diet’, she doesn’t mean kale salads and macro tracking. “Dieting is not about getting thin. It’s about eating right. And eating right consistently, sustainably, and within your culture, your preferences, and your budget.”

Even as I am chewing on that, I ask her what led her to write this book on diets, particularly at a time when bookshelves are already heaving under the weight of similar tomes. “This book of mine came about post-Covid following confusion fuelled by a million wellness influencers and diet trends,” she says. “People had started to understand that health is wealth. They were going back to basics during the pandemic: ordering dal khichdi, cooking and baking more at home. But then social media came roaring back.”

That’s when Rujuta noticed something curious. The more people tried to “eat right” via Instagram, the more confused they got. “Even something as basic as khichdi had become a suspect!” says the nutrition advocate whose celebrity client list includes Varun Dhawan, Rohit Shetty, Karisma Kapoor, Kangana Ranaut and Gautam Gambhir. “I wanted to tell people, ‘Stop overthinking. Start eating’. That’s the subtitle of the book, and that’s really my message.”

So what’s your idea of a healthy life? I ask.

“It’s not just what’s on your plate, but when and how you eat it,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Our digestion, energy, and metabolism work on rhythms. When we constantly disrupt that, say by skipping meals, eating late at night, we confuse the body.”

She advocates for a espectful rhythm, not a rigid one. “Eat at roughly the same times, sleep and wake at regular hours. Don’t micromanage, just be consistent.”

Rujuta is also a champion of intuitive eating ― something that sounds deceptively simple in today’s calorie-counting, portion-controlling world.

“The first step is to slow down. Sit down to eat. Use all your senses. Smell your food, chew it well, enjoy it.” And, she says emphatically, “Eat without guilt.” That’s right. “Guilt is worse for your health than the food. If you eat something mindfully, you’ll stop when you’re full. ”

She also bats for seasonal fruits. In an era of climate change, eating seasonally is not just good for your gut, it’s good for the planet, she says.

“By default, we used to eat with the seasons. Now we have to make that choice consciously,” she says.

She admits that once-seasonal fruits and vegetables are today available all through the year.

“But our gut knows what and when to eat. For instance, mangoes taste best in May-June. Our body tells us what it needs, and we need to heed that.”

She believes the solution to modern deficiencies like vitamin D or iron is often not in supplements, but in diversity.

“We’re not nutrient-deficient. We’re diversity-deficient. Eating local and seasonal naturally increases diversity in the diet.”

One of the most moving moments in our conversation is when Rujuta talks about the kitchen ― not just as a place to cook, but as the heartbeat of the home.

“In traditional Indian homes, the kitchen was where magic happened. Everyone contributed ― men, women, children. It was a gender-neutral, age-neutral space of collaboration. That’s what we’re losing.”

Food, she says, builds community. “Whether it’s Diwali or Eid or Christmas, we share food with friends and extended family. It’s our way of saying we belong to each other,” she says.

In an age where long life often means loneliness, she believes food offers a kind of insurance.

As we come to the end of the interview, I ask the globally-renowned expert what is the one thing that a reader should take away after reading her book.

Rujuta smiles and mulls the question for a while. “Come home to your plate. Look at what you grew up eating. Start there. You don’t need imported diets; you need inherited wisdom.”

As someone who began her career at a time when eating disorders mostly meant anorexia or bulimia, Rujuta is now deeply concerned about a newer, more pervasive problem: binge-eating disorder.

“It’s this cycle where young people, especially girls, under-eat during the day, then binge at night, and then feel so guilty that they under-eat again the next day.” This vicious and dangerous cycle repeats and they get caught in a never-ending loop.

It’s heartbreaking, she says, because it’s so avoidable.

“If we just stopped overthinking and started eating when we’re hungry, with joy and without guilt, this wouldn’t happen.”