Life has a funny way of coming full circle. Now, as a mother juggling work, family, and a busy household, I often find myself reminiscing about the time when my journey truly began — as a small-town girl with big dreams, stepping into the busy world of Bangalore.
Those early days were filled with excitement, struggle, and plenty of homesickness. And while life has moved forward, certain things have stayed the same — like my longing for the comforting taste of my mom’s hing ka achar, a little piece of home that still carries so much meaning.
From Quiet Lanes to Busy Streets
Growing up in a small town, life was simple and predictable. I’d wake up to the sound of chirping birds, not the honking of cars or the hum of traffic. There were neighbors who felt like extended family, a cosy kitchen that smelt of my mother’s cooking, and a sense of calm in the routine of daily life.
But I had dreams that went beyond the boundaries of my hometown. After finishing my degree, I packed my bags and moved to Bangalore to start my first job at an IT firm.
With its endless possibilities, the city was nothing like the familiar streets I’d left behind. It felt alive, chaotic, and intimidating all at once. I was excited, of course, but I couldn’t ignore the ache of leaving everything I knew behind.
The Early Struggles
Starting fresh in Bangalore wasn’t easy. My first apartment was a tiny, shared flat that lacked the warmth of home. Work was demanding, and I often found myself feeling overwhelmed and unsure. The city seemed to swallow me whole at times, its pace was far too fast for someone used to the slow rhythms of a small town.
But the hardest part was being away from my family. I missed the comfort of my mom’s voice at the end of a tough day, my dad’s reassuring advice, and the camaraderie of my siblings. And, of course, I missed the food — that soulful, home-cooked goodness that no restaurant in Bangalore could replicate. Even the simplest meals back home, like dal-chawal with a spoonful of hing ka achar, felt like an absolute feast.
A Spoonful of Nostalgia
I remember how much I longed for that hing ka achar during those early days. My mom would make it every summer with fresh raw mangoes, mustard oil, and her secret blend of spices. The smell of hing wafting through our house was unmistakable, and the taste was even better. It wasn’t just a condiment; it was a part of home, a bite of love and care wrapped in tangy, spicy perfection.
Back in the city, getting my hands on a jar of it was nearly impossible. I’d occasionally bring some back from my visits home, rationing it like a precious treasure until the jar ran empty. Those small spoonfuls of achar during lunch breaks or late-night dinners after long workdays were my way of staying connected to home. It reminded me of who I was, even in the midst of trying to adapt to a city that often felt foreign.
A New Chapter, Same Longing
Life has changed a lot since then. I’ve built a life in Bangalore, made friends who feel like family, and even started my own family. But some things never change. I still miss the simplicity of my hometown, the slower pace of life, and the flavours of home that can’t be replicated. And yes, I still crave my mom’s hing ka achar.
The difference now is that I don’t have to wait for a trip home to satisfy that craving. Thanks to the convenience of online shopping, I can order authentic homemade hing ka achar straight to my doorstep.
It’s not exactly like my mom’s, but it comes close enough to bring a smile to my face. On days when I feel nostalgic or overwhelmed by the demands of work and family, I sneak a spoonful with my meals, and it instantly takes me back to those sunlit kitchens and carefree days of childhood.
Looking Back, Moving Forward
When I think about my journey from a small-town dreamer to where I am now, I feel a deep sense of gratitude. The struggles, the homesickness and the longing for familiarity all shaped me into the person I’ve become. Those early days in Bangalore taught me resilience, the value of hard work, and the importance of staying connected to my roots, no matter how far life takes me.
And now, as a mom, I find myself wanting to pass on those lessons to my children. I want them to know where I came from, to understand the meaning of family traditions, and to appreciate the little things that make home so special — even if it’s something as simple as a jar of hing ka achar.
Life may be busy, but every now and then, I pause, take a bite of something that reminds me of home, and feel a sense of comfort that words can’t fully describe. It’s a reminder that no matter how far we go, there’s always a way to stay connected to where it all began.
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