

My mother cooks tokku pachchadi every summer as soon as raw mangoes are available. She chops them up into little bits and mixes them with kharam and very little oil because it's meant to be eaten right away rather than preserved. My mother used to feed me tokku pachchadi and annam (rice) when I was a little child, and every bite was loaded with affection. It's still in my possession, and it transports me back to my childhood. Our summer vacation included a lot of mangoes as well. The smell of Alphonso or banganapalle wafting through the house as we savour a melting orange popsicle and watch TV – that was my ideal summer.

Imagine seeing a family of 23 indians going through the streets of Paris, some of them dressed in bottus and sarees. One year, that's exactly what we did. Every summer, the four of us and our extended family would embark on a domestic or foreign adventure. It was a means of keeping the family together. We've visited a variety of destinations, from kodaikanal to Amsterdam. On these excursions, we loved seeing new locations, shopping, and spending time with the family.
