I recently came across a small story about a woman who had three sons. All three of them grew up to become successful individuals, earning money, recognition and respect in their respective fields.

When someone asked her about the secret behind their success, they expected her to mention hard work, discipline, good manners or perhaps the values she had instilled in them. Her answer, however, was quite unexpected.

She said that she had taught her sons just one thing from a very young age, Never complain.

Initially, it was difficult for them. They weren’t used to it and found it challenging to stop complaining about things that didn’t go according to their expectations. However, gradually, they developed a habit of looking for solutions instead of complaining about situations.

She explained that when something doesn’t happen the way you want it to, complaining doesn’t necessarily change anything. It only leaves you frustrated. However, when you stop complaining, you begin thinking about what you can do to improve the situation.

That little story stayed with me for quite some time.

I started thinking about how many times we complain throughout the day without even realising it. We complain about the smallest inconveniences, situations beyond our control and things that don’t meet our expectations.

I thought to try it myself and decided to spend an entire day without complaining.

What Happened When I Tried It?

The complains starts early in the morning at home itself. We might not like the breakfast prepared for us, wonder why we have to wake up so early or get irritated because we’re running late. We might complain about a messy room, the Wi-Fi not working properly or not finding something exactly when we need it.

Then comes the outside world.

We complain about traffic jams, long queues, unexpected delays and people behaving differently from what we expect. Even our relationships aren’t free from complaints. A friend cancels plans, someone doesn’t reply to our messages or we don’t receive the appreciation we were expecting.

There is always something that doesn’t go according to our expectations and we start complaining about it.

However, that day, whenever I felt like complaining, I tried to pause and think about what I could do instead.

If something wasn’t working, I looked for an alternative. If something was delayed, I tried to use that time differently. If a situation wasn’t in my favour, I asked myself whether there was anything I could do to make it better.

It wasn’t easy initially. I had to remind myself several times about the decision I had made. However, as the day progressed, I started becoming more conscious of my reactions.

What Did I Learn?

By the end of the day, I had a few questions for myself.

Did my day actually become easier? Yes.

Did I notice things I usually overlooked? Absolutely.

Did I become more patient? Yes.

Did I find solutions to situations I would otherwise have complained about? Yes.

The most interesting part was that I realised how much time and energy we spend complaining about things without actually doing anything to improve them.

When we stop complaining, we give ourselves an opportunity to think differently. Instead of repeatedly focusing on what went wrong, we start looking at what can be done next.

It also made me realise that not everything deserves our frustration. Some situations require patience, some require a solution and some simply require acceptance.

I started noticing the things I already had, the comforts I enjoyed, the people around me and the opportunities I sometimes took for granted. I felt grateful to the Almighty for everything I had been blessed with.

We spend so much time thinking about what is missing that we often forget to appreciate what is already present.

A Little Change in Perspective

I don’t think that never complaining means never expressing dissatisfaction or pretending that everything is perfect. There are situations where speaking up is necessary and there are problems that genuinely need attention.

However, there is a difference between acknowledging a problem and constantly complaining about it. Perhaps the real lesson is to stop letting complaints become our first reaction to everything. We cannot always decide what happens to us but we can certainly work on how we respond to it.

Sometimes, a small decision, like spending just one day without complaining, can teach us something that stays with us for a lifetime. Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed this piece, please leave 50 claps to show your support. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Don’t forget to follow, subscribe, and share.

A Day Without Complaining was originally published in No Time on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Yes you heard it right. Alpine Bumblebee can fly to higher altitutes than Mt. Everest though they do not try that. A research was done by UC Berkeley scientists, where alpine bumblebees (Bombus impetuosus) were placed into a sealed, low-pressure chamber to simulate high-altitude air conditions.

All the tested bees could fly past 7,400 meters (24,272 feet) while some continued flying past 9,000 meters (29,525 feet), surpassing the peak of Mount Everest which is at 8,848 meters (29,032 feet). On analysing how they did this, it was found that instead of beating their wings faster in the thin air, the bees increase their stroke amplitude (taking wider, deeper arcs with their wings) to scoop more air and maintain lift.

They don’t try this in real world because the temperature drops dangarously at higher altitute and the bees can not survive or fly below 7 degrees C. Another important reason is since flowers and nectars do not exist at such heights so the bees have no reason to fly so high.

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this fascinating little fact about bees, don’t forget to leave a comment and give it a 👏.

If you learned something new today, show some love and share it with others. Nature is full of surprises, it never ceases to amaze us 🐝🌿.

Did You Know… Bees can fly higher than Mount Everest was originally published in Did You Know…Short Fun Facts on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Diwali is over, and it’s that time of the year again when I miss home a little more than usual. Though I love all festivals, there’s one that will always hold a special place in my heart — Chhath Puja.

It’s been five years since I last celebrated Chhath at home and every year as the festival approaches, I feel an overwhelming urge to just fly back to my hometown and be with my people — my mother, my nieces, my cousins, and everyone who makes home feel like home.

For me, Chhath is not just a festival, it’s an emotion. It’s a beautiful connection to my roots, my childhood, my culture and countless memories that I hold close to my heart.

Chhath is a four-day festival filled with devotion, discipline, purity and gratitude. It begins with Nahay Khay, followed by Kharna, then Sandhya Arghya (offering prayers to the setting sun) and finally Usha Arghya (offering prayers to the rising sun).

Each day has its own significance and every ritual carries a beautiful meaning. But beyond the rituals, what touches me the most is the preparations at home, making thekua together for the prasad, the fragrance of traditional food, the beautiful folk songs, the decorated ghats, the glow of diyas and the sight of families coming home together to celebrate this.

I miss the chaos, the laughter, the conversations, the excitement and most importantly, the feeling of being surrounded by my loved ones. I miss watching my mother observe the rituals with so much faith and devotion. Some moments become memories before we even realise how precious they are.

I still remember those days in my boarding school when hearing Chhath songs playing from the neighbouring would instantly make me emotional. I would feel an overwhelming sense of homesickness, wishing I could somehow go back home and be a part of all the festivities.

Growing up, Sharda Sinha ji’s soulful Chhath songs were an inseparable part of the festival for us. We had grown up listening to her voice and even today, just a few lines of those songs are enough to take me back to my home, to those festive mornings, the preparations at home and the warmth of being surrounded by family.

This year, Chhath begins on 13th November and concludes on 16th November. And once again, my heart will be at home, even if I cannot be there physically.

Distance may keep me away from my hometown, but it can never take away the emotions, traditions, and faith that connect me to it.

Some festivals are celebrated, some are lived. Chhath is one that I feel deep in my heart.

If my words brought back a memory or made you feel a little closer to home, please leave a comment and show some appreciation with claps. Thank you for reading.

Chhath- Not Just A Festival But An Emotion was originally published in The Story Room on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

We often say that the smallest things make the biggest difference. Salt is one such thing. A simple white crystal, sitting quietly in our kitchens, rarely receives the appreciation it deserves.

Imagine, I woke up one day and went to prepare breakfast, only to realise that the salt container was empty. I immediately called the grocery store in my society, hoping to order some but to my surprise the shopkeeper told me that salt was unavailable. I tried looking for it on online grocery platforms, but there was no salt anywhere. Suddenly I realised that salt has vanished from the entire world.

Now what?

I honestly went blank. I couldn’t imagine preparing even a single meal without salt. It was then that I realised how something so ordinary, something we barely pay attention to, could become so important once it vanished from our kitchens and eventually from the entire world.

Just imagine what would happen!

Our food would no longer taste the same. It would lose an essential part of its flavour, whether it was an ordinary everyday meal or an elaborate festive feast.

Our traditional recipes would suffer too. Think about pickles and countless regional dishes that use salt as an essential ingredient. Preparing them would become extremely difficult and even if we managed to find alternatives, the original taste would be missing. We would slowly lose a part of our culinary traditions.

The consequences wouldn’t be limited to our kitchens. Agriculture and animal farming would face serious challenges because animals also require sodium in their diets. Salt is equally important for human health. Sodium plays an essential role in nerve signalling, muscle function and maintaining the body’s fluid balance. Its absence would have serious consequences for our health.

The more I think about it, the more I realise that salt is needed in so many different aspects of our lives. It is not merely an ingredient that makes our food taste better; it is something that supports our health, traditions, industries and everyday existence.

Perhaps we never appreciate the importance of certain things until we imagine a world without them.

A small pinch of salt, something we barely notice every day, suddenly becomes irreplaceable.

To be honest, without it my world would certainly never be the same.

Tagging the host Swati for the amazing challenge.

Tagging a few fellow amazing writer friends for their stories, Sudeshna Hajra, Eshwari Reddy and Mamta Verma ji.

Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed this little thought experiment, don’t forget to leave 50 claps. Your support and appreciation means a lot to me. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. What would you miss the most in a world without salt?

Until next time, happy reading.

This story is part of the writing challenge — “A World Without One Ordinary Thing.”

A World Without One Ordinary Thing — A Writing Challenge

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Purely Hearts — A Publication

A World Without One Ordinary Thing — A Writing Challenge was originally published in Purely Hearts on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Whenever we see someone crying, our first assumption is usually that the person is sad, hurt or going through a difficult time. Most of the time, that may be true. People cry when they experience pain, disappointment, heartbreak or sadness.

Is crying always associated with sadness? Does every tear have a story of pain behind it?

I don’t think so.

Sometimes, we cry when we are happy, overjoyed or overwhelmed by emotions. There are moments when our hearts are so full that words simply fall short. We smile, we feel happy and at the same time yet tears roll down our cheeks. It is almost as if our emotions find their own way of expressing themselves.

Think about those moments when we feel deeply grateful to someone. We may want to thank them, express our appreciation or tell them how much they mean to us but we become numb. Our eyes become moist and tears express what our words cannot.

The same happens when we pray. There are moments when I find tears in my eyes while praying not because I am sad or hurt as I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards God. Those tears are my own way of expressing thankfulness.

Another beautiful example is watching our children grow, achieve their milestones and do well in life. As parents, we feel proud and happy. We smile when we see their achievements but somewhere, our emotions take over, our eyes fill with tears. Those tears carry pride, happiness, love and countless unspoken feelings.

Recently, we witnessed a similar emotional moment when Mukesh Ambani was seen smiling as well as crying as his children spoke on stage on the launch of Jio IPO. He appeared happy and beaming with pride. It was one of those moments when two seemingly different expressions, smiling and crying, came together beautifully.

Isn’t that fascinating? We can experience happiness and tears at the same time.

There are so many little things in life that can bring tears to our eyes. A piece of unexpected good news, a reunion with someone we love, a long-awaited dream coming true, a child’s achievement or even a simple gesture of kindness can leave us emotional.

Tears have their own language. They can express sadness, but they can also express gratitude, happiness, pride, relief and love.

Perhaps we should stop looking at crying as a sign of weakness. Being emotional doesn’t make someone weak. It simply means that they are experiencing something deeply. After all, not every tear needs to be wiped away because of sadness. Some tears deserve to be accompanied by a smile. As sometimes, we cry not because our hearts are broken, but because they are too full.

Thank you for reading. Remember, every tear has a story and every smile carries an emotion. Keep embracing both. If you enjoyed it, leave a clap, share your thoughts in the comments and follow for more.

Crying Is Not a Sign of Weakness was originally published in The Gravity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

My father was in a government job and was in the Bihar cadre so he was transferred to a new place every three years. Some of the postings were good and some not so good in terms of schooling. Going to a new place frequently had its own advantages and disadvantages. I enjoyed exploring new places, but leaving old friends made me really sad. Every home I lived in taught me something, gave me something, and added a part of it to my personality.

Since this setup was taking a toll on my studies, I was sent to a boarding school in Ranchi. It was a convent school, and that was the turning point of my life. It shaped the major part of my personality. The main focus of the school was on strict discipline, moral instruction, character building, and a strong emphasis on English-medium education.

It took me some time to adjust to the new environment because the culture, rules, and overall atmosphere were quite unfamiliar to me. Although my mother had always been strict and disciplined, my new alma mater seemed more like a military base than an ordinary school. Everything had a certain level of discipline, from the way we dressed and behaved to how we were expected to communicate with teachers and fellow students.

The rules were numerous, expectations were high, and even the smallest mistakes could invite attention. We were fined for speaking in Hindi. Initially, I found it difficult to understand and adapt to this structured way of life. I missed the familiarity and comfort of my previous surroundings, where everything felt easier and more natural. I missed home badly and was homesick most of the time.

Gradually, I began understanding that adjusting to a new place required more than simply following its rules. It meant stepping out of my comfort zone, accepting differences, and learning to find my own space in an unfamiliar environment.

Looking back, this transition taught me an important lesson: sometimes the places that challenge our comfort also contribute significantly to our growth. The hostel life played an important part in making me the person I am today. It taught me some of the most important aspects of life, including discipline, confidence, punctuality, kindness, and independence. Living away from home introduced me to responsibilities that I had never experienced before. From managing my daily routine to respecting others’ perspectives, every little experience became a lesson in itself.

It also taught me the value of companionship, cooperation, and understanding. Sharing a room, meals, laughter, and countless conversations with people from different backgrounds helped me become more accepting and considerate. There were days when I missed home, struggled with the rules or simply wished to be in my familiar surroundings. However, those experiences gradually made me more resilient and self-reliant.

Today, when I look back, I feel an immense sense of gratitude towards my school for giving me something so precious. It gave me an environment where I could discover myself, overcome my inhibitions, and develop qualities that continue to guide me. The memories, friendships and lessons from those hostel days will always hold a special place in my heart.

Perhaps the greatest gift my school gave me was not merely an education, but an opportunity to grow into a more confident, responsible and compassionate human being.

Tagging the editors, Hooria Akbar and Paulia Dianz. A🧡for the challenge.

Every story I write carries a little piece of my heart and knowing that you take the time to read it makes the journey even more special. Thank you for being a part of it.

The Places That Made Me Who I Am — A Writing Challenge

This story is published in A Place Called Home — a warm corner for real voices and honest hearts. Have a story of your own? Share it with us, “Where Your Words Feel Home.”

'A Place Called Home' —  Welcome To Our New Publication

The Places That Made Me Who I Am was originally published in A Place Called Home on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Last summer I visited my grandparent’s home and was looking at the old photographs displayed in the drawing room. As I went through them, one particular photograph caught my attention. It was of someone I had almost forgotten.

His name was Mahender.

He was not related to us by blood, nor was he officially a member of our family. However, the relationship he shared with my grandfather was something that went far beyond ordinary family ties.

Since childhood I have always seen Mahender alongside my grandfather. My grandfather was an IAS officer who had retired by the time I was born. Even after retirement, he carried himself with remarkable grace. He was always impeccably dressed, usually in trousers and a neatly tucked-in shirt. He was extremely active, disciplined and devoted a considerable part of his day to religious activities.

There was one person who was almost always there with him like his shadow, Mahender.

My grandfather would wake up around four in the morning and Mahender would be there, attending to his daily routine. There was a hand pump visible from the upper floor of our house. I can still recall waking up one morning to the sound of it. When I looked outside, I saw Mahender drawing water from the hand pump and baba bathing there.

After the bath, he would wash baba’s clothes himeself and help him prepare for his pooja. He would make all the necessary preparations before my grandfather sat down for his daily puja, which often lasted an hour and a half or two.

Afterwards, my grandfather would visit a Thakur Bari in our ancestral village everyday and Mahender would take him in the rickshaw.

Something that always fascinated me was that despite having several cars, my grandfather hardly ever travelled in them. I had always seen him travelling in the rickshaw driven by Mahender. Whether he wanted to visit a temple, go to the market, meet someone or simply travel around town, Mahender was always there with his rickshaw.

From the early hours of the morning until the end of the day, he was involved in everything my grandfather did. He was there during his prayers, his outings, his meals and even his resting hours.

One day, I asked my father something that had been on my mind for quite some time. “Why does Mahender never go home? Doesn’t he have a family?”

What my father told me next completely changed the way I looked at their relationship.

During my grandfather’s service, he had once found Mahender lying unconscious somewhere. There was nobody around to look after him. My grandfather immediately took him to a doctor and helped him recover. Later, he discovered that Mahender was an orphan and had absolutely nobody to call his own.

My grandfather decided to bring him home. From that day onwards, he looked after Mahender like his own son. He gave him a home, care, affection and a place where he belonged. Mahender, in return, made my grandfather the centre of his world.

For him, my grandfather was not merely someone he worked for. He was his family, his parent, his home and his entire world. He devoted himself looking after him, understanding his needs and ensuring that everything was taken care of.

Over the years, their bond became so strong that Mahender could often understand what my grandfather wanted even before he said it. He knew his habits, his preferences, his routines and even the little things that others might have overlooked.

When my grandfather eventually fell ill, Mahender took care of him with the dedication of a son, the tenderness of a daughter and the concern of someone who could not imagine his world without him. He took on every responsibility he could, standing beside him through those difficult days.

Then came the day my grandfather passed away.

I was away at my hostel at the time, so I did not witness what happened afterwards. I only heard from my family that Mahender was devastated. He reportedly sat quietly in a corner and cried inconsolably. After some time, he got up and walked away.

Nobody really knew where he went, we never saw him again.

Even today, when I think about this story, I find myself wondering about the depth of their relationship. I had witnessed their togetherness throughout my childhood but I had never understood the story behind it. It took me years to realise that what I had casually considered an everyday presence was actually a remarkable relationship built on gratitude, trust, affection and belonging.

There are so many stories within our families that remain unknown to the younger generations. We grow up seeing certain people around us, accepting their presence as a normal part of our lives, without ever wondering how they became part of our family in the first place.

Mahender is one such story in our family.

Perhaps family is not always about sharing the same surname, ancestry or bloodline. Sometimes, it is about finding someone who chooses to stand beside you, takes care of you and makes your happiness a part of their own life.

And perhaps the most beautiful families are not always the ones we are born into, but also the ones we build along the way.

Mahender may have been just one name in an old photograph, but his story will always remain an inseparable part of ours.

Tagging ShubhamAgrawal for the beautiful challenge along with Parvathi J and Sudeshna Hajra to read my story.

Inviting Shravani Dhumal, Assumpta Rose and Moon & Deep to share their stories.

Thank you for taking the time to read this little piece of my family’s history. I hope Mahender’s story reminds you that some of the strongest bonds in life are formed beyond blood relations.

If this story touched your heart, please leave 50 claps, share your thoughts in the comments, and follow me for more such stories.

This is part of the November writing challenge from the Writer’s Circle publication.

The Family Story: A Writing Challenge

This story is published under “Writer’s Circle.” A space for raw thoughts, everyday fiction and non-fiction, and voices that feel real and relatable. Would you like to contribute? Follow our publication. Have a story to tell? Share it with us here.

Writer’s Circle Publication: An Update

The Family Story: A Writing Challenge was originally published in Writer’s Circle on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

From litti chokha to gajar ka halwa to matat paratha and matar ka godila, these are the winter specialities that make our Bihari food traditions so special.

Every region has its own food traditions and special recipes that people look forward to during particular seasons. Some dishes are prepared more frequently during summers, while others become an essential part of our winter meals. Bihar, too, has its own collection of winter specialities that I have grown up eating.

Some food habits become a part of us simply because we have seen our grandparents and parents following them since childhood. We grow up eating certain dishes during particular seasons and eventually they become a tradition in our own household.

Let me take you through some of the winter delicacies that are particularly close to my heart and are a regular part of our winter platter in Bihar.

1. Sattu Paratha or Litti Chokha

Whenever winter arrives, one thing that we start consuming more frequently is sattu.

For those unfamiliar with it, sattu is made by roasting gram (chana) and grinding it into a fine flour. It is nutritious, versatile and an important part of Bihari household.

We consume sattu during summers as well in the form of a refreshing drink prepared with water, salt, roasted cumin powder and lemon. It is delicious and incredibly refreshing as well as healthy.

However, winters call for a different variety of sattu delicacies.

Sattu paratha and litti chokha are among the most loved winter preparations in Bihar.

For the stuffing, we take sattu and add finely chopped garlic, green chillies, coriander leaves, salt, ajwain, mustard oil, achar ka masala and lemon.

This stuffing can be used in several ways. We prepare stuffed parathas by filling it inside wheat dough and roasting them on a tawa with ghee or oil. Sometimes, we make round, kachori-shaped preparations and fry them in oil.

However, the most iconic preparation is Litti- Chokha

Traditionally, litti is roasted over burning cow-dung cakes (goitha), giving it a distinctive smoky flavour. The litti is turned repeatedly until it is properly cooked from all sides. Once ready, it is dipped generously in desi ghee.

For the chokha, we roast brinjals and tomatoes over a flame until they become soft and smoky. Their skins are removed, and the pulp is mashed together with chopped onions, garlic, green chillies, salt and a little mustard oil.

The combination of hot, ghee-soaked litti with freshly prepared baingan-tamatar chokha is simply irresistible.

Perhaps the reason we love it so much goes beyond its taste. We have seen our grandparents eating it, our parents preparing it and now we continue the same tradition. It is considered to be good for health apart from the taste.

2. Gajar Ka Halwa

For me, winter officially begins when fresh carrots start appearing in the vegetable markets and the first batch of gajar ka halwa is prepared at home.

Yes, no winter is complete without this delicious dessert.

The moment we spot fresh carrots, we know it is time to make gajar ka halwa. My mother has been following this little winter tradition for as long as I can remember.

She prepares a generous quantity, which we store in the refrigerator and enjoy over the next two or three days. Whenever we feel like having some, we simply heat it nicely and serve it warm.

There is something so comforting about gajar ka halwa. Its rich, silky texture, the sweetness of carrots and that melt-in-the-mouth feeling make it incredibly satisfying.

In our household, gajar ka halwa is not just an occasional dessert. It is something we keep preparing throughout the winter season. We finish one batch and make another.

That is how much we love it.

3. Palak Paneer

Fresh spinach is another wonderful thing about winter.

Although we prepare palak paneer during other seasons too, the freshness and availability of winter spinach make the dish even more enjoyable.

A generous portion of fresh spinach cooked with paneer and aromatic spices makes for a wholesome and delicious meal.

I particularly love having palak paneer with hot freshly prepared homemade rotis, generously coated with ghee.

The combination is simply wonderful:)

My children love it too, so it is another regular preparation in our household during winters.

There is something special about cooking with freshly harvested seasonal vegetables. The flavours feel richer and even simple everyday meals become more enjoyable.

4. Aloo Methi Ka Bhujia

Fresh methi leaves are another winter favourite.

One of the simplest and most frequently prepared dishes in our home is aloo methi ka bhujia.

We take fresh fenugreek leaves, chop them and cook them with potatoes, salt, turmeric. It is a simple preparation but the combination of potatoes and fresh methi tastes wonderful.

We usually enjoy it anything roti, paratha, khichdi or a comforting meal of rice and dal.

Methi is also traditionally valued in many Indian households and is often included in winter meals. I have grown up seeing my family incorporate it into different preparations.

Sometimes, the simplest dishes are the ones that give us the greatest satisfaction.

6. Matar Ka Paratha

Fresh green peas are another reason I look forward to winters.

One of our favourite preparations is matar paratha, which is absolutely delicious and my all time favorite.

For the stuffing, we first cook fresh green peas with a little mustard oil, garlic and green chillies. Once cooked, we grind them coarsely. We do not make a completely smooth paste because that slightly coarse texture adds to the taste.

We then add salt and use this mixture as a stuffing inside wheat dough.

These stuffed puris or parathas can be prepared with either ghee or oil, depending on your preference.

I particularly love having them piping hot, straight from the tawa.

Honestly, you do not even need a separate vegetable preparation to accompany these. Matar ki puri is satisfying enough to be enjoyed on its own.

7. Matar Ka Godila

Now comes another winter speciality that is particularly loved in our household- matar ka godila.

This is a delicious green pea preparation that we usually enjoy with steamed rice, aloo ki bhujia and freshly chopped onions.

For this preparation, we begin by making a masala using onions, tomatoes and ginger-garlic paste. We roast everything properly with other dry spices until the mixture is well cooked.

Next, we add semi-boiled fresh green peas and prepare a slightly thick gravy.

Once everything is cooked, we finish it with a generous spoonful of desi ghee on top.

We serve this matar ka godila with hot rice, aloo ki bhujia and some freshly chopped raw onions.

And trust me, this combination is next level.

This is one of those dishes that we look forward to every winter and its cooked almost everyday.

A Winter Plate Full of Memories

These are some of the dishes that make up a typical winter platter in our Bihari household. Of course, there are many other preparations that we enjoy but these are among the ones that we particularly look forward to every year.

Food is not always just about ingredients, recipes or flavours. Sometimes, it is about the people who prepared those dishes for us, the childhood memories attached to them and the traditions that we unknowingly carry forward.

I have watched my mother prepare these dishes and grown up associating their flavours with the arrival of winter. Today, we continue to prepare them in our own homes, passing these little traditions on to the next generation.

Even while writing this article, my mouth is watering :D. I feel like preparing all these delicacies and enjoying them one after another.

Perhaps that is the beauty of seasonal food. Every winter brings back familiar flavours, cherished memories and the same excitement of sitting down with family to enjoy a lovingly prepared meal.

Some flavours are seasonal but the memories they create stay with us forever.

Tagging the editors Dt. Tinna, PRATIBHA ☕📚and ShubhamAgrawal for the challenge.

Thank you for reading.

This story is part of a writing challenge hosted by Frame & Tales📸. Participation is open until November 15th. 💕

🍂My Winter Plate — The Writing Challenge

🍂My Winter Plate — The Writing Challenge was originally published in Frame & Tales📸 on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

If I could have a mirror that always showed me the same scene, I would choose to see my family sitting together, happy, healthy, and enjoying themselves. It's about the comfort of knowing the people I love most are doing well.

Of all the things I love, my family tops the list, and I would always want to be with them no matter what. They are my strength, my hope and my comfort. I need them at my low; I need them at my high. The love, the care, the warmth which I get from my loved ones is beyond imagination. I pray to God every day to keep them healthy and happy always. I have had a close-knit family of four, my parents, me and my brother. Then I got married and am a family of four again: my two kids, my husband and myself. They are my lifeline.

I sometimes wonder what I would do without them. Since my kids are pre-teens and teenagers, they need me for everything. From morning till night, I plan my day according to them. They share their joys, their sadness, everything with me, so I act accordingly. We have lunch and dinner together and talk about how we spent our days.

As far as my parents are concerned, I talk to them every day over the phone. In fact, Mom and I talk about a whole lot of stuff, sometimes about some recipes, sometimes about a relative or anything under the sky. With Dad, it's a friendly conversation once a week, but for hours, though.

The best moments are when I am with my complete family sitting and laughing together, and trust me, I can watch that scene forever and ever.

Above all, I would want the mirror to remind me that life is not just about reaching milestones or chasing perfection. It is about cherishing the present, appreciating the people who stand beside us and becoming a better version of ourselves every day.

This story is in response to November 4: “Mirror, mirror, on the wall…”
If you could have a mirror that would always show you the same scene, what would you choose to see? (A.R. Jacobs), Hope you like it.

Tagging the editors Adrienne Beaumont, Mary Acton, Lynn L. Alexander and Nancy Oglesby to see my story.

No Nonsense November

A Reflection of Everything I Hold Dear was originally published in the Challenged on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Diwali celebrates the victory of good over evil, light over darkness. It also represents knowledge, hope, goodness and new beginings. It is a festival of lights, homecoming, sharing and happiness. Every diwali we decorate our home with colorful lights, makes beautiful rangolis, meet our friends and relatives, burn crackers and eat lots of sweets. The whole vibe is so positive.

These traditions carry a deeper meaning. Every individual carries an inner light within them which needs to be illuminated at the right time. The light of hope gives us a new hope that everything will be fine, the light of courage helps us stand in adversity and the light of kindness which makes us a little more kinder every day.

Life is a journey full of experiences. Each experience gives us a lesson, some good and some not so good but even the ones which are not so good teaches us something. Diwali teaches us not to give up even when the circumstances are challenging as we all have that inner strength to overcome them with time and patience. Material happiness is important but inner contentment is the ultimate goal because no material possession can match the peace of a satisfied heart and a fulfilled soul.

This Diwali, let us make a conscious effort to become better human beings. Let us replace resentment with forgiveness, jealousy with appreciation, arrogance with humility and indifference with compassion.

Let us remember that every diya we light carries a beautiful message. Darkness does not have to be permanent, difficult phases do not define our entire journey, and every new beginning brings the possibility of hope.

Wishing everyone a happy Diwali 🪔

Tagging the editors 🌸Preeti Pathak🌸, Sriram Yaladandi and Rishita Sharma💗for the challenge.

This story is part of Beyond the Celebration — A Writing Challenge by Pen With Paper. Ever felt exhausted by festive preparations, uncomfortable with certain traditions, pressured to spend, or simply relieved when the celebrations are over? Turn your festive & funny encounters, or hidden emotions, into a story.

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Beyond The Celebration — A Writing Challenge was originally published in Pen With Paper on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.