Ananya is a visual communication and spatial designer. She uses multiple channels for creative expression – poetry, film, writing and even acting – but believes storytelling is key to connect with the audience. Ananya tells the story of her memory of a magical mound of poha she happened to gorge on while on a road trip to visit her grandparents.

Sometimes the most common things make the most precious memories. Poha is one of the common breakfasts in most of North India. Many variations can be seen in the recipe from region to region. While some people find it ordinary (I do too), I found a place that changed my opinion of the humble Poha entirely. The friendly eatery of Sonkatch (a small town in Madhya Pradesh, India) is always on my mind whenever I eat a decent plate of poha.

Looking back

Being an Indori (a citizen of the Indian city of Indore), I know that the people here take their Poha more seriously than anywhere else across India. But, If I think about it, I have not been Indori my entire life. Indore was known as my grandparent’s place fifteen years earlier. We used to visit them without fail, twice a year. I remember when I was around 6 or 7 years old, we were travelling to Indore via road and were about to reach there in about 2 or 3 more hours after a tiring 12 hour long journey. I was agitated when we stopped by an unsightly place, something like a big godown, with a lot of metal benches and packed with hundreds of people. The place was unwelcoming but lured hungry travellers with the aroma of freshly prepared snacks.

There I acquainted myself with a freshly prepared plate of poha served with onions, a squeeze of lemon and a hint of special masala. I took the first bite and then went for another, and another, and before I knew it, I had gobbled up the entire plate all by myself. After that trip, I knew that I had to visit this place like pilgrimage time and again. From that day onwards, I would find myself more enthusiastic visiting my grandparents, especially on a road trip.

Looking ahead

After that trip, I asked my mother to make the same poha but, alas! she could not. A few years later, when I started cooking myself, I looked for recipes online or in books that would somehow replicate that magical flavour. I would say that I learned to make a good plate of poha but not the same. Now, we would go to Sonkatch sometimes and I would relive the taste as my first bite at the same place.Now amid the global pandemic, I haven’t left my home more than twice in a year so, going to Sonkatch again and eating seems like a dream. I would encourage everyone to visit there and take me with them in the future. I would practice making the dish till then, so maybe one day, I would recreate the same taste with my own hands.

Written by Ananya Kori and edited by  Jashan Sippy.

‘Food, the Feeling of Home’: A series of stories exploring nostalgia, the power of food, our memories and stories of ‘home’. Want to share your story? Send it to us at info@sugarandspace.in