I was judgemental once — of people's choices, their partners, their sense of dressing. Then I lost my husband, and the judgement turned towards me. Society had a clear idea of what a widow should look like. I was expected to dress the part, act the part, be the part. The questions came directly to my face. After years of carrying what was never mine to carry, I moved to Hyder...

Some women are born feeling everything — every shift in a room, every flicker behind a smile, every silence that speaks louder than words. I am one of those women. It took me years, and more than a few hard lessons, to stop calling that a weakness and start calling it what it truly is: my 7th sense.

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If life is a dal, humour is the tadka. Without it, everything is technically nourishing but entirely flat. I learned this not from a book or a therapist, but from living — and from a father who laughed his way through everything life threw at him.

The post Humour That ...

turned 62 this year. And honestly, I feel better in some ways than I did at 42. I know myself now. I know what I want. I have stopped apologising for both. But growing old as a woman in India also means noticing things. Gaps in the pavement and gaps in policy. Silences where there should be conversation. This is not a complaint. It is a gentle nudge from someone living this ...

I have always believed that the secret ingredient in every dish is a sprinkling of love. Food has been my art, my therapy, and my most honest form of expression for decades. However, grief has a way of silencing even the things you love most. This is the story of how I found my way back to my kitchen, back to myself, and back to the quiet joy of feeding your own soul.

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