Why I Can’t Eat Banana Chips Without Crying
It always starts with the crunch. That first, familiar snap of a wafer-thin slice of banana fried golden in coconut…
🥄 Taste Memory
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My Father’s Ritual of Quiet Chapati Folding
He never cooked them. Never rolled the dough or flipped them on the tawa. But once the chapatis were done…
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The Ice Cream Cart Bell That Triggered a Stampede
It started as a faint jingle — distant, metallic, almost lazy. But within seconds, the entire building heard it. And…
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A Bite of Kulfi and Suddenly It’s 1997
It was just a bite. A small triangle of malai kulfi, balanced on a wooden stick, already melting at the…
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That Summer Everything Tasted Like Pickle Oil
There are summers you forget, and then there are summers that cling to you — in your skin, in your…
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The First Snack I Ever Made Without Supervision
There’s a kind of electricity that runs through your body when you realize no one’s watching you in the kitchen…
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When Rasgulla Was a Bribe and a Blessing
In our house, rasgulla was never just dessert. It was currency. A reward. A bargaining chip that could turn a…
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The Smell of Burning Ghee Still Means Celebration
It always starts the same way. A sudden puff of smoke. A sharp, nutty scent that hits the back of…
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How Pani Puri Broke My Heart and Fixed It
It started with a breakup and ended with a pani puri stall. Not the kind in a restaurant, where they…
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The First Sip of Homemade Rose Syrup
The first sip was cold, sweet, and so deeply pink it felt like I was drinking a memory. Not mine,…