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Breakfast was a chaotic but sacred ritual. The family of twelve—grandparents, parents, two uncles, two aunts, and six cousins—gathered in the long dining hall. They sat on wooden patlas (low stools) around a steel thali . Today was Aloo paratha with a dollop of white butter and a side of tangy mango pickle.

The house slowly fills again. The smell of evening bhindi or dal chawal floats through. Keys jingle at the door. “Main aa gaya!” is announced with the same enthusiasm as Day 1. Chai is non-negotiable. Everyone gathers in the living room—TV on, but no one really watches. Discussions range from school grades to office politics to “Iss bar Diwali kahan jaana hai?” Breakfast was a chaotic but sacred ritual