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Baba - The story of the man from his daughter's eyes

If you ask me who my favourite person in the world is, my answer is simple — my Baba. The same Baba I fight with over the silliest things, the one who calls me “Budhia,” and the one I can tell just about anything to. Our relationship is a little crazy, full of arguments, laughter, and countless little moments that mean the world to me. But sometimes, I wonder how much I really know about the man behind the word Baba. To me, he is my father, my strength, and my Universe. But before he became all of that, he was Manoj — a young man with dreams of his own and a story that began long before I came into this world. I have written about my mom and my sister, and now it is time to write about the man who has stood behind our family, carrying his own struggles while making sure we had everything we needed. So, this is not just a story about my father. It is about the man I love, the person I fight with, and the voice that could apparently cure my childhood fever. This is my Baba’s story, told ...
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My first born 🥰🥰

Let me start with a confession. When my sister was born, I was not impressed. Not even remotely. I had been waiting for a baby brother. In my little head, I had already imagined all the fun of having a younger brother. And then came the big announcement: It was a girl. My response? “Please throw her in the dustbin.” Yes. That was my first reaction to the person who would eventually become one of the biggest loves of my life. 😂 Honestly, if someone had told that little girl that one day she would write an entire piece about this baby and call her “my first born,” she would have probably laughed. But life has a wonderful sense of humour. Because that tiny baby I didn't even want turned out to be exactly the person I didn't know I needed. She came into my life eight years after me, and for the longest time, our age gap felt enormous. I was the elder sister who thought she knew everything, and she was the little sister who seemed determined to challenge that belief at every possib...
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Home of threads

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It is often said that a home is not made of bricks and cement, but of people—your people. After four years of marriage, I finally understand what that truly means. Because my mother—my Mama—is my home. Today, while cleaning my sister’s bed, I found one of her sarees tucked away in a corner. I picked it up casually, but the moment I held it, something shifted. There it was—a familiar scent, still wrapped in its threads. A warmth, a love, so real that it pulled me back almost 25 years in an instant. I never imagined something so small could hold such a deep place in my heart. Growing up, I never really understood who she was. To me, she was just always there. But today, I see her differently—not just as a woman draped in a saree, but as my pillar of strength, my quiet protector, the one who could take away all my worries and pain with just a few words, even through a simple video call. I also remember how she would tie little knots at the edge of her saree—small, almost unnot...
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A season of Nostalgia

 The Season of Nostalgia It’s been almost three years since I last penned down my thoughts. Not for any particular reason—maybe because “zindagi ne kiye kuch haseen sitam.” The last time I was writing, I was a girl, unmarried, with dreams flowing freely. Today, I sit here as a married woman, woven into the fabric of worldly responsibilities that are irreplaceable in their own way. Life, after all, has been nothing less than a rollercoaster ride—challenging, yet beautiful. But let’s not drift too far. Today, I write again, because memories have found their way back into my heart, demanding to be heard. Ganesh Utsav always marks the beginning of festivity. Along with it, comes a flood of memories—of school days, college fun, and countless little moments that time can never erase. As I travel back in time, my mind takes me to the years between 2014 and 2016, to a city that gave me so much and still holds a piece of my heart—Raipur. There’s something about that place. As they say, “Us ...
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DAHIBARA ALUDUM

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DAHIBARA ALUDUM -AN EMOTION   They say "Hyderabad aye aur biryani nahi khaya toh kya khaya" it's the same for Odisha also "Odisha aye aur Dahi bara nahi khaya toh kya khaya".  Dahibara Aludum is a household name in all the Odia homes. Whether it is a sunny, rainy, or winter day you can find people eating it in every corner of the streets.  I still remember our summer vacations were all about having Dahi bara aludum for breakfast for most of the days and the Dahi bara aludum will be not homemade but a person coming on a cycle with two big brass containers and a small one which had ghuguni or as we say white chickpeas curry or safed chana sabji and letting us know "dekho mai aagaya" with his banging of the brass container. I have been very lazy or in other words a morning sleeping person my whole life but at this time of the day as the sound of the Dahi bara person coming would be heard I and my sister would run to the courtyard and would be waiting for...
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Odiya delicacy- macha patrapoda(fish baked in banana leaves)

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MACHA PATRAPODA(FISH BAKED IN BANANA LEAF) This recipe is just not a recipe for me but a rememberance of my grandmother's love and affection and how she use to feed us. So this recipe is for my Aai or mother's mother or as we all say nani maa. So before giving you the recipe let me tell you how this recipe got evolved in my grandmother's kitchen. STORY BEHIND MY NANI'S RECIPE So, when she was young they had to cook in a chulha or using wood logs inserted inside a clay   hand made stwere not available. So while she was cooking the fish fell down and got nowadays what we call as grilled or barbecued but for them  was burnt. And she was  what she would do about it so what she did to get rid of the charcoal smell she used the banana leaves covered it and then cooked the fish for around some minutes and then her signature dish arrived and the recipe got passed on from one generation to another.  But when it came to me I was little confused that how can I make it as...
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