A younger me.

Today's Image is of Raj, a young boy I met on my visit back to me home in India. Raj lives there with his mom and dad who own the house now. 

Meeting him I felt this energy that in someway he is very similar to who I was when I was living in that house. He has relatives in America. So he dresses "weird" according to the Indian standards because he has English on the shirts (because they bring him "cool" clothes). He was very active, very energetic to show us all around the house and what he does after school, what he ate today, and who his friends are. Is very similar to who I was and what I was while living in India. My parents couldn't afford a camera to document my early life so this is as close as it gets to an example of who I was living in that house. 

- Yash

 

 

Before I knew what Curry was.

Welcome to the pantry! This is where my mother kept all of our food/spices for all the meals we shared while we were living in India.

This is before I knew what the hell curry was.

Many of our dishes that have their own characteristics. Those dishes have their own names and aren't referred to as "curry".  It was the British who occupied our land for years that come up with this descriptor: Curry. I can go on all day why and how this is wrong and how it takes away from the importance of my culture and my people's beautiful history.  

To my close friends who want to try indian food please really learn what the food is actually called! Don't erase the origins of my people's food by categorizing it under "curry"! Respect the culture and decades of history behind it. 

Please comment below to let me know what you think.

- Yash  

Let's move inside!

Today let's move inside the house I grew up in. This is the kitchen my mother spent hours in to feed us three times a day!

In india not many people have a dining tables and even the ones that do, they don't use them. (maybe for their guest who come from America lol) We would sit on the floor of the kitchen or the main room and We would eat in metal plates and bowls. fun fact: I remember being 4 or 5 years old and I refused to eat my food from my own plate. I would eat only in the same plate as my father, at home or anywhere else. Eventually that tradition faded when we moved to the states. I am happy about one thing though, the flavor in my mom’s dishes didn’t change.

That’s it for now, until next time.

- Yash