Khichdi: The alchemy of comfort

Ah, khichdi. The golden, mushy marvel that deserves its own place in the pantheon of life’s great comforts. Not just a dish – it’s a state of being. A molten lava-like concoction of spiced rice and lentils that quietly heals and revolutionises your soul, one spoonful at a time.

How does one exist without khichdi? Seriously, I’d like to know. Because for as long as I can remember, khichdi has been the backbone of my survival strategy. Breakup? Khichdi. Thunderstorms? Khichdi. Wallet thinner than my patience on a Monday? Khichdi. Open fridge, echoing with emptiness? Khichdi to the rescue.

This humble, unassuming dish is the mothership we all return to when life’s chaos threatens to send us hurtling into the void. Joyful moments, too – though let’s face it, khichdi thrives in crisis situations. Like a wise maternal figure with a ladle in hand, it soothes, nurtures, and slowly nudges you back to hope, humanity, and the quiet conviction that everything will, somehow, be okay.

And let’s talk economics here. A bowl of khichdi costs mere pennies to make, yet its worth? Absolutely priceless. It’s kitchen alchemy at its finest—turning pantry staples into a meal that feels like it was sent from the heavens. Rice, lentils, maybe a pinch of spice, and voilà! Breakfast, lunch, or dinner is sorted. Khichdi doesn’t discriminate – it’s there for you, 24/7.

So, next time you’re teetering on the edge of existential despair (or just staring at an empty fridge), let khichdi be your guide. It’s not just food – it’s sustenance for the body, balm for the soul, and proof that sometimes, the simplest things in life are the most profound.

Alchemy? Maybe not. Khichdi is the philosopher’s stone.