Living well with Karuna Ezara Parikh

On cancer, rewiring, and why living well turned out to be the most delicious thing she ever did.

Karuna Ezara Parikh is a poet and novelist, and has made a life out of paying close attention. In her work, that attention has gone towards love and loss, language and longing, of interior life and the world around her. But a few years ago, attention became something more urgent. Diagnosed with advanced cancer at 39, she found herself looking closely at the most ordinary things: what she put on her plate, how she moved through her day, the quiet architecture of habits that either hold you up or slowly don’t. The writing didn’t stop, but something else changed: her whole way of thinking about what reward means, what pleasure is for, what it looks like to take genuine care of a life you’re still very much in the middle of.

What followed wasn’t a wellness conversion or a clean-eating origin story. Karuna will be the first to tell you she was not always eating well, that the path from her mother’s fresh bread and insisted-upon salads to a kitchen full of gluten-free pasta and protein-rich, plant-based meals she actually wants to eat was neither straight nor swift. It took a diagnosis to jolt the rewiring into place, and then it took thousands of small changes, not one large one, and a great deal of thinking about what pleasure is actually for.

Jumping right into it - have you always made healthy eating choices?

Actually, no. I did grow up very healthy – my mum was the sort who baked us fresh bread, didn’t buy Maggi, and insisted on a salad with every meal – but somewhere along the way I lost those habits. With crazy work hours, the advent of food delivery apps, and general laziness, I let those early lessons on nutrition go. Somewhere in my thirties, I slipped into a space where I would, like so many of us, have sporadic bursts of eating well, and then it would all slide. Every time my health took a turn for the worse, I’d pull things up, promptly letting them slide again the moment I was better.

What changed?

Well, cancer, I guess! Getting an advanced cancer diagnosis at 39 jolted me. And while I’m not saying my inconsistent eating habits caused it (we know cancer is an inexplicable combination of factors from lifestyle choices to genetics, stress, and environmental effects), food – what we put into our bodies constantly – makes a huge difference. Much greater than I’d assumed. And food is essentially a tool, right? One that can be a weapon, or one that can be something you take out to help you fix, build and fortify. As soon as I faced the consequences of a life in serious imbalance, I decided to reach for it as the latter.

How did this alter your day-to-day?

Funnily, not in one big way, but thousands of small ones. At the core of it, I’d say it’s changed the way I look at reward. Before, reward was always, without a doubt, something that hurt me. A “cheat” if you like – choosing the indulgent thing, from a night of cocktails to three desserts in a row, to a sneaky cigarette… You name it. But when you realise the reward can be and is the good shit, everything shifts. Living well is the prize. So the early morning becomes sacred, the post-prandial walk after a meal becomes non-negotiable, and a delicious, high-protein, low-sugar, plant-based diet is a party every day if you do it right. It’s a whole rewiring.

Which leads us to our next question. Was it hard to make the switch to a plant-based diet?

A few years before falling ill, I turned, mainly for compassionate reasons, to a mostly vegetarian diet. It worked as a good transition towards a vegan one, and sort of prepped my tastebuds. One of the big challenges was creating meals that felt indulgent, while using limited – or shall I say completely different – ingredients. At first, it’s hard because we’re not used to turning tofu into yoghurt or cheese, or protein powder into dessert. We’re not used to thinking of flax seeds as a binder in a cake recipe, or of pasta made entirely from a gluten-free grain. (Yes! I also cut out tons of gluten - I’d had bad psoriasis responses to it in the past, but the main reason was the carby glucose spike post gluten-heavy meals - something cancer cells feed on.) So yes, more about a mentality shift than anything else. Once that took place, the recipes simply walked through the open doors of my imagination.

I do wish there were less anger and hatred when it comes to veganism. It’s a kind choice, and more intelligently aligned with a world facing the devastating effects of climate change. For example, the argument that veganism is part of an “elite diet” doesn’t really stand, because in-season vegetables and grains are cheaper than meat. Amongst those who can afford all the options either way, I find the resistance is mostly mental. I’ve invited many a friend to try my recipes, and they’re almost always surprised when I say, “It’s gluten-free, sugar-free and vegan, by the way.”

You’ve documented online this extension of your table to many, and seem to take as much joy in the hosting as you do in the eating - is that true?

Yes! Possibly more joy. There’s nothing quite like breaking bread together, is there? But I’m also glad it looks that way, because I am, and have always been, a very anxious host. I worry too much about whether I’m getting it right, because, well, you know what they say about hosting being an art? The right balance of people, the right number for it to feel intimate, the right lighting, music and temperature and timing. But what is “right”? It’s so personal. I may think six people is perfect, and you might think it’s too many, and a third person might need ten times that number to call it a party. So I’ve stripped it down to a few simple things that work for me, which include: people I’m comfortable with, recipes I’ve usually tried at least once before, some items that can come out fresh, some that are fine being prepped beforehand and this is the most important one – asking for help, and learning to say politely when I don’t need any. I also usually set up the space in the day for a dinner, or the night before, if it’s a lunch I’m hosting. I also have a little ritual: once I’m ready, I give myself a ten to fifteen-minute window to just sit down, put on some music, and deep breathe. It’s when I remind my anxious self that this is meant to be fun. And with the “right” things for me, it is!

You mentioned that you’re working on a book about food – possible to tell us a little more?

I haven’t spoken about this that much because I do have a different book coming out first, but yes, I’m working very slowly, and I want to say thoughtfully, on a book about eating my way through cancer, and how a diagnosis like mine doesn’t have to turn your plate into a sad, unappetizing, punishment. The book will be out with Westland in 2027, I hope, and has a lot of the eating misses that came before the hits, and essentially goes through a lot of the hilarious experimenting I did in my quest to continue living well, and with delight, through this time.

Karuna’s new book is scheduled for release by Westland in 2027. Follow her on Instagram for more.

1,000 Ways to Live Well is a Mille publication. Mille is a modern nutrition brand built around everyday rituals, starting with protein that doesn't ask you to compromise on taste. millesupergrain.com