Friday, October 5, 2012


When a father gives to his son, both laugh; when a son gives to his father, both cry-- William Shakespeare

My brother Mayank organised a massive bhandara to remember our father. The food was offered to all, basically gatecrashers were the only invitees, was done near the Ghaziabad’s main bus stand so that hundreds of people could come and eat. They did.

These two weeks before Durga Puja called Pitra Paksha or Shraadh (literally means unconditional reverence) designated to remember ancestors.

My Father

My brother Mayank and nephew Kshitij distributing the food.

I distributed halwa

My Mother Sushma and sister-in-law Ruchi

Mother is happy.

My brother is a glad man with Kshitij.



Kshitij shows the massive kitchen.
This time it was really elaborate: some 100 kilograms of wheat flour was used to make puris (,  50 kilograms of halwa ( and many vegetables--all cooked in desi ghee (pure milk fat).

1 comment:

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