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Missing Moringa

I always have dry moringa leaves in my pantry. There are days when I miss the shojne flowers cooked in mustard paste - my paternal grandmother's version of it is the standard my taste is settled on. My mother's not too different from it either. There was always a novelty to this dish - the flowers were in bloom on for so long and you could only make the dish during that time. But there was sense of scarcity or impossibility associated with making a meal from this flowers, enjoying the aroma of the dish as it served. When I use my dry moringa leaves to cook, it is to travel back in time when the real thing was in easy reach, when I did not have to make the most of its essence.

It is the difference between wearing your favorite perfume and trying to reconstruct its smell form memory knowing you can never have it again. These thoughts crossed my mind this past Diwali. Going to the Indian grocery store was the closest I came to experiencing actual Diwali. It was Friday evening and the parking lot was overflowing. People were shopping supplies for puja and also preparing festive food. Many like me were taking shortcuts, buying an assortment of sweets and savories. The lady ahead of my in the checkout line was clearly intending to cook a spread judging by copious quantities of ghee, jaggery, coconut and more in her cart. Maybe she had kids at home who would help with the cooking - that would be a wonderful way to bring them along for the cultural journey without being pedantic about it. The guy behind me had decided to keep it simple - a stack of diyas and some sweets.

I was probably in between them - I would cook something elaborate for lunch, dishes that reminded me of home but rely on the pre-made snacks apart from that. It would not feel real no matter what I did so my desire to try has faded over time. In such politically correct times such as we live in, it is risky for people to presume I am Hindu because I look desi and so they shy from wishing me on Diwali. What if they inadvertently trigger something negative. So you celebrate in relative isolation - its only the size and scale of the celebration that varies but the isolation generally remains. 

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