A daughter’s memory of her father’s slow-cooked kheer

A daughter’s memory of her father’s slow-cooked kheer

Rain clouds have emptied themselves, returning the sky to a washed, bright blue hue. Dragonflies fill the air and the unmissable saffron of genda (marigold) flowers sitting in wicker baskets on roadside stalls beckon the most-awaited festival of autumn - Diwali. 

As the moon wanes into amavasya in the night sky preparing for the luminous festival, the memory of my childhood Diwalis come to mind. As a little girl, after I’d bathed and dressed for the festivity, the first scene in the morning that welcomed me every year when I entered the kitchen was my father in his crisp, white kurta pyjama squatting in front of an old kerosene stove. 

Making our own Diwali rituals

Making our own Diwali rituals

Being born and brought up in India and then moved to the United States, I realise that how I see festivities is so different from how my children see them. 
Every year around major festivities I question myself how do we celebrate these in a way that my kids resonate with them and carry it forward