Leftover Fulka, Meet Your Eggs!

 

Every household in Maharashtra has something made with wheat flour. Most families have fulkas, and one of the most common ways to use leftover 'fulkas' is to make 'fodnichi poli'. Incredibly tasty, and perhaps a recipe I'll share as part of my Reviving Family Recipes project sometime soon.

But this? This is my favorite way to give leftover fulkas a new life. Two eggs in every roll, a little sliced onion, a generous line of Dr. Oetker FunFoods Tandoori Masala Mayonnaise, and a quick toast on the pan until everything turns golden and crispy.

Savoury, protein rich, crunchy, crispy. Honestly, what else do you need for a good breakfast? I started making these because mornings in a big family can be quite the operation. And somehow, despite using two eggs per roll, I still end up making more rolls per person than anyone would ordinarily eat.

Which probably explains why we've now started deliberately making extra fulkas at dinner so we can turn them into breakfast the next morning. 😂 Talk about a recipe that earns its place in the household!

The best part is that this is one of those recipes where very little can go wrong. Much like most of the recipes I make, if I may say so myself. It's quick, satisfying, uses something you already have in the kitchen, and saves you from having to figure out breakfast from scratch.

My kind of morning magic really. 😜

So here's my challenge to you. Make these egg rolls and tell me how long you stayed satisfied and energized before hunger came knocking again. And, of course, tell me your story. Did you grow up eating something similar? Do you have your own ingenious way of using leftover fulkas? Or did this recipe become a breakfast favorite in your home too?

Mine began with the very practical desire to save time on busy mornings. And now, we make extra fulkas at night just so we can have these rolls the next day. I'd say that's a pretty good endorsement. 😄

Products I used that are available on amazon: 

Dr. Oetker FunFoods Tandoori Masala Mayonnaise 

Rituals that hold our families together

 

As children grow up, and as we build a safety nest that will eventually become an empty nest, something quietly holds the family together. It is the rituals we create and nurture while our children are still growing within that nest. We often recognize the importance of these rituals only when our children leave home to discover lives of their own. The little traditions, annual outings, familiar celebrations and shared experiences that once seemed ordinary suddenly become the threads that keep us connected across distances.

When we don't consciously build such rituals while our children are growing up, the transition to an empty nest can feel even more pronounced. Having something familiar to look forward to, year after year, gives everyone a reason to come together, even when life takes them in different directions.

Diwali is just around the corner, and I thought this would be a lovely opportunity to share one of my family's most cherished traditions. It is a Diwali ritual that has been going strong for over 20 years now, and counting! What began as a family outing, traveling or simply spending time together during Diwali, gradually evolved over the years. Before I became a mother, we would travel as a family or host other family members during the festive season. Eventually, our annual big family getaway shifted to the summer vacations, while Diwali became our little trio vacation.

The three of us started getting creative about choosing destinations, often with age-appropriate experiences and learning opportunities in mind. Over the years, we have explored water parks, forest trails, mountain hikes, beaches and oceans, safaris, night skies and historical places. Every year brought a new destination, a new experience and a fresh collection of memories. And that is precisely why I am sharing this.

Rituals like these create a strong bond between parents and growing children. They give everyone something to anticipate, plan and look forward to every year. They become a beautiful space for creating memories, learning new things, laughing together and simply enjoying each other's company. As children grow older and eventually move out, these shared traditions can become an anchor. The memories associated with them give children a reason to protect that annual time with their families, even when careers, relationships, travel and the demands of their own lives compete for their attention.

I love the thought that something we started doing years ago, without knowing how meaningful it would become, might continue to hold us together for decades to come. What are the rituals your family looks forward to every year?

I would love for you to share them with me. I am planning a follow-up post next month featuring ten creative family rituals, with due credit to the families who have inspired them. Think of it as a ready reckoner of ideas you can borrow, adapt and build into your own family traditions. If you would like your ritual to be considered among the top ten, write to me at support@snigdha-shevade.com and tell me about it. I would love to hear your story!

And if you would like to explore more ideas around building meaningful family connections through every stage of parenting, pick up a copy of my book, Safety Nesters to Empty Nesters. It also makes a thoughtful Diwali gift for someone you know who is raising a family or is an empty nester.

I Am Enough

 

I was taught to disappear,

To hide my voice, to mask my fear.
I was told I was far too much,
Then punished for my voice and my touch.

I was abandoned when I broke the role,
And slowly lost the pieces of my soul.
I kept asking what would make me belong,
How to be better, how to be strong.

I searched for pieces I thought I lacked,
Tried to fix myself, to cover each crack.
I tried to make the picture whole,
While losing sight of my own soul.

I know what it means to be the last choice,
To swallow my truth, to silence my voice.
I know how to smile while hurting inside,
To shrink myself small, to bury my pride.

I know what it means to carry the blame,
To wear the wounds and conceal the shame.
To stand in the shadows, unseen, unheard,
And question my worth with every word.

For it is rarely one blow that breaks,
One cruel word, one heart that betrays.
It is the weight of a thousand small things,
The slow loss of hope that each wound brings.

Until one day, when you reach the floor,
You find the strength to hurt no more.
You choose to rise, to break the chain,
To stop repeating the inherited pain.

You choose yourself, though fear remains,
You walk through grief, through loss, through pain.
Healing is messy, and grief takes its toll,
But every hard step brings you back to your soul.

Choosing yourself may cost you tears,
May ask you to face your deepest fears.
But freedom begins when you dare to see
That you were never meant to earn the right to be.

And somewhere along this winding way,
The truth grows louder than what they say.
You no longer beg the world to approve,
You know your worth, and you hold your truth.

You were never broken, never too much,
Never unworthy of love and touch.
You were enough before the world said so,
Enough before you had room to grow.

You spent a lifetime seeking a sign,
A reason to believe that your worth was divine.
But the voice you were waiting so long to hear
Was always your own, waiting to draw near.

You were always enough, right from the start.
You just had to believe it with all your heart.

My Beagle Thinks She’s a Dinosaur

 

I have literally and figuratively grown up with dogs. I shared a post about one of my earlier dogs here a long time ago, and if you are a pet parent, you probably understand this already. Talking about your pets becomes almost inevitable. They become such a part of your everyday life that eventually, talking about them feels like talking about yourself.

So, like every other pet parent who cannot shut up about their dog, here I am.

My almost six-year-old Beagle is the first small dog we have had in the family for a very long time. Before her, there was a little German Dachshund when I was very, very young. I don't actually remember playing with him. I only know that I loved him because there are these incredible photographs of the two of us together, and that's how I know dogs were already a very important part of my childhood.

After that, we went big. Golden Retriever. Great Dane. Boxer. I mean, these are really big dogs. And every single one of them seemed to have absolutely no idea how large they were. My Beagle has inherited that particular quality. Except she seems to have taken it several steps further.

She genuinely believes she is a dinosaur. Especially when the doorbell rings. Or when the vet is trying to give her an injection. Or when food is involved. Actually, food deserves its own paragraph.

She is a living vacuum cleaner. If something falls on the floor, it is gone. It doesn't matter what it is. Crumb? Gone. Vegetable? Gone. Something I am still trying to identify? Gone. Something that absolutely should not be eaten? Already gone. And how much can a Beagle eat? It is genuinely astonishing.

But the walks are probably my favorite part of having her. Dogs generally walk, trot and sometimes run. I know this to be true, the other three I remember growing up with, did all of this! My Beagle however, has introduced me to another category of movement.

Linger. Sniff. Investigate. Sniff again. Move three steps. Stop. Sniff some more. Poop while moving. I had never realized how much a dog could turn a ten-minute walk into an extended field investigation that lasts for 30 minutes at least.

And maybe, at this particular phase of my life, I needed a Beagle. I needed someone to slow me down. To make me stand still. To notice things. To wait. And, apparently, to develop immunity to a lot of loud noise shooting way above normal decibel levels.

Because this girl has at least fifteen different sounds, calls, complaints and emotional barks. My Boxer probably barked about five times in his entire eleven-year life. This one has five different sentences for one doorbell.

And they all seem to mean something. There is the Who is that? The I know someone is outside. The Why haven't you opened the door? The I am personally responsible for protecting this entire house. And the very special Let me tell you what I think about this.

So these are a few classified tales from life with my Beagle. I obviously have many more. But I need to also stop somewhere. I can always write more later! 

Any other Beagle parents here? Please tell me this is your story too! 🐶❤️

How Can I Make Sure I Never Have to Come Back to India?

FnAQ: I really want to settle abroad. I'm willing to study, change careers, take another course, or do whatever is necessary to get a PR. I’m scared that if my visa doesn’t work out, I'll have to return to India. How do I make sure I can stay abroad permanently?

Short answer: You can't guarantee that you will stay abroad. And honestly, you shouldn't make that your definition of success. Wanting to live in another country is completely valid. Building a career abroad, applying for permanent residency, learning a new culture and creating a life somewhere else can be wonderful experiences. The concern begins when staying abroad becomes more important than the life you are actually trying to build.

Longer answer: I see variations of this question quite often. Which country has the easiest PR? Which course gives me the best chance of staying abroad? What job should I take to get sponsorship? What happens if my visa expires? Should I take another degree because it will give me more time? How do I make sure I don't have to come back to India?

And sometimes, underneath all these questions, there seems to be another one that no one wants to say out loud, "What if coming back means I wasn't successful?" That is the question I would want you to spend some time with.

Because there is nothing inherently more successful about living in another country.

You may genuinely want the opportunities, independence, lifestyle or experiences that come with living abroad. You may have found a community there. You may love the work you are doing. You may simply feel that another country suits the person you are becoming.

Wonderful. Go build that life. But please make sure you are building a life, rather than building a visa. What does success mean to you? This is where I think many young people, not just you, need to pause.

Imagine that Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn, WhatsApp, etc. disappeared tomorrow. Nobody could see where you lived. Nobody knew your salary. Nobody knew whether you had PR. Nobody knew whether you lived in Mumbai, Melbourne, London, Toronto or Berlin.

What would you want your life to contain?

Good work? Financial independence? Love? Friendship? Family? Freedom? Adventure? A sense of belonging? Time to yourself? Creative work? Physical wellbeing? Perhaps something completely different.

Now imagine having those things in India. Would you still feel that you had failed?

And then imagine having a foreign passport, a good salary and a beautiful apartment while feeling lonely, anxious about your immigration status, exhausted by your job and disconnected from the people you love.

Would that automatically be success?

This is why I think defining success for yourself matters so much. Social media has become very good at showing us where people live and what they have acquired. It tells us much less about how their lives actually feel. There is nothing wrong with wanting to stay abroad. Let me be very clear about this.

I am not suggesting that people should stop pursuing migration. If you want to live abroad, research your options. Understand immigration laws. Build the skills employers actually need. Understand the financial cost. Talk to people who have lived there for years, not only people who have just arrived. Understand what happens if your first plan doesn't work.

And then make an informed decision.

What concerns me is the desperation. "I will do anything to stay." That sentence deserves some examination. Anything? Including taking on enormous debt? Staying in a career you hate? Remaining in a relationship because your immigration status depends on it? Spending years collecting qualifications you don't actually want? Living in constant anxiety because returning feels like humiliation?

At what point does the dream stop serving you? What if you had a Plan B? I sometimes think we underestimate how liberating a backup plan can be. What if you said:

Plan A: I build a life abroad.

Plan B: If that doesn't work, I return to India and build something here.

Plan C: I explore another country.

Plan D: I change my career direction.

Suddenly, the visa decision isn't holding your entire identity hostage.

You can try. You can fail. You can change your mind. You can discover that the place you desperately wanted to live in isn't actually where you want to spend the next twenty years. And you can still have a life. A Plan B isn't an admission that Plan A will fail. It is a reminder that your life is bigger than Plan A. And what if you do have to come back? This may be the hardest question.

What will people say? What will relatives think? What will you tell your friends? What will happen to your career? Perhaps some people will judge you. People judge almost everything. But here's the thing you miss, you don't have to organize your life around avoiding their judgement.

Coming back doesn't erase the years you spent abroad. You still carry the experience, skills, friendships, perspectives and memories you gained. You may return with a completely different understanding of yourself. And perhaps you may even discover that the life you build next is better suited to who you have become.

So, should you try to stay? Yes, if that is what you genuinely want. But while you're trying, please live. Don't spend five years treating your current life as a waiting room for PR.

Create memories that have nothing to do with your immigration status. And keep asking yourself, "If I knew today that I might have to leave this country someday, would I still want to live this life while I am here?"

If the answer is yes, you may be building something meaningful. If the answer is no, perhaps the visa isn't the only thing that needs your attention. Your passport can determine where you are legally allowed to live. It doesn't get to decide whether you are living.

Hope this helps! 

Lots of love!  

When Your Child Grows Up, Your Parenting Must Grow Too

 

The last stage of parenting can be one of the hardest to adjust to. Your child has grown up. They have their own life, their own choices, their own relationships, and their own boundaries.

And sometimes, as a parent, you can find yourself wondering when the relationship changed. You may feel hurt, confused, or left out. You may wonder why your child doesn't call as often, share as much, or seem to not need you in the way they once did.

It is easy to experience that distance as rejection.

Sometimes, though, an adult child is simply trying to create some emotional space for themselves. This can happen when old misunderstandings have never been addressed, or when familiar patterns of control, worry, advice, or expectation continue into adulthood.

Parenting an adult child asks us to recognize that the relationship has changed. Your child is now an adult. They make their own decisions, live with their consequences, and decide what kind of life they want to build. Your role as a parent changes with that.

You listen. You share your experience when it is wanted. You respect their choices, even when you would have chosen differently. You learn to trust the person your child has become. And you begin to build a relationship between two adults.

Some parents read this part of the book simply because they want to understand this stage better. Others come to it because they already feel a distance with their child and don't know how to bridge it. This part does not ask parents to blame themselves. It asks them to become curious.

You may begin to understand that your adult child stepped away because they needed room to breathe. You may recognize moments from the past when your fear came across as control, when your concern felt like pressure, or when your expectations became difficult for your child to carry.

These realizations can be painful. They can also open a door. A relationship can begin to change when we become willing to listen to what the other person has experienced, even when their experience is difficult for us to hear.

Repair can begin with a conversation. Sometimes it begins with an apology. Sometimes it begins with simply saying, "I want to understand. Can you tell me what this has been like for you?" Rebuilding trust takes time. Your adult child may need time too.

You cannot decide how quickly they should forgive, how much they should share, or when they should feel close again. You can however, choose how you show up now. It is not too late to repair a relationship with your adult child.

The relationship may never look exactly as it did when they were young. It isn't supposed to either. They have grown. And your parenting needs to grow with them. 

This part of the book is for parents who want to rebuild trust with their adult children. For parents willing to listen, reflect, and make room for a new kind of relationship. And for anyone who still hopes that, even after years of hurt or distance, there can be a way back to genuine connection.

Get your copy here.  

Five Minutes, One Blender and a Little Protein Magic

 

The kid has to run out for his workout.

You have serious chocolate cravings.

You're in the middle of a meeting and the only break you can negotiate is a quick bio break.

Your workout was heavier than expected and your body is very clearly asking for protein.

And then there are the senior citizens at home, making fun of your protein obsession while quietly drinking the very same shake without realizing that they've just had a decent little protein boost themselves.

Yes.

I have experienced these scenarios more times than I would like to admit. 😂

Which is exactly why this shake exists. It takes about five minutes. Everything goes into a blender. Blend. Pour. Done. No elaborate preparation. No chopping. No cooking. No ten different containers sitting on the kitchen counter waiting to be washed.

And before you look at the recipe and wonder why I have actually measured everything out, let me confess something. You don't need to. I don't. I usually eyeball the whole thing. The measurements are mostly here because I am a writer and apparently I cannot give you a recipe without making it look organized. Professional hazard. 😂

Once you know the proportions you like, you can simply throw everything into the blender and adjust it to your mood. More cocoa if you want it chocolatey. A little more almond milk if you like it thinner. A little less water if you want it richer. This one has become a personal favorite because the protein powder gives the shake a lovely smooth texture.

And then I discovered something even better. It doesn't have to stay cold. Because the Mille protein powder I use is heat stable, I can turn the exact same blended mixture into a warm, creamy hot chocolate. Just pour the blended mixture into a saucepan and heat it gently.

And there you have it. Your five-minute protein shake has now become a warm chocolate drink. Of course, that adds another five minutes. But sometimes five extra minutes are worth it. Especially when the weather is cooler, you're craving chocolate and your body still wants that protein.

I love recipes like this because they don't require me to organize my life before I can feed myself. They fit into the gaps. Between meetings. Before a workout. After a workout. Before the kid runs out the door. Or even on those days when you open the refrigerator, stare at it for ten seconds and realize you have absolutely no interest in cooking anything.

If you make it, tell me how you found it.

And if you end up serving it to someone who claims they don't understand this whole “protein obsession”... Please tell me whether they noticed. 😂

Products I used that are available on amazon:

Mille Yeast Protein 

Hershey's Cocoa Powder