But first chai

This year will be the FIRST time I won’t be with my family for Christmas. Now, it’s less that it’s Christmas, it’s more what this time of year allows. Everyone having switched off from the day to day. Piling in to the parents’ house, every room full. Kids running around. Music by the fireplace. A feast cooked by the collective. Moments of calm and connection as the kids drift off. Movie nights. Game nights. Happy tears, sad tears. Letting the old out. Letting the new in. So grateful to have a home as warm as this one. Happy Holidays to you all. I’ll be on a beach in Hawaii with my family counting their blessings in not bossing them around as head chef this year! Good luck recreating my nut roast! 😉 🫶🏽

Many people described our ceremony as intimate. I think it’s because a) we kept it small and b) family was at the heart of it. From both my parents walking me down the aisle, to the little ones scattering rose petals, my big sis radiating pride as she officiated, my middle sis singing with soul and heartfelt readings from his sister and mine. It was exactly what I’d imagined and totally love-filled. 🥺🫶🏽

Miss catching up with them over chai on the weekend. Someone invent teleportation soon please and thank you.

Had to get in a red moment ♥️

When love transcends all 🫶🏼

The twenty something me would have never posted this pic. My nose is always something I’ve been insecure about. We know why; growing up with western idealized standards of beauty. But this new decade I’m leaning into acceptance. And into loving characteristics of me that signify my heritage. Brown is beautiful. ✌🏽

They’ve worked so hard to build a comfortable life for their kids and provide us with all the opportunities, that for so long they deprioritized themselves. Finally, they’re in a phase of life where they’re pouring back into themselves, and we’re in a phase of life where we can treat them as a reminder of our gratitude. Love them so much. 🥰

I remember being a teen and HATING playing dress up in Indian outfits. Complaints of itchy, scratchy, heavy, tight etc. Frankly there were even times I just didn’t want to be considered ‘desi’, too absorbed in assimilating to western ideals of fashion and beauty. Fast forward a decade and a smidge and ma and I are designing outfits and I’m embracing the culture that is ours and that I get the honour to embody. 🥰

Punjabis don’t mess around when it comes to food. This was us at my wedding caterer tasting. We tried everything we will serve. Every thing. We made an extensive notes document of feedback and modifications. We discussed one dish to the next. Spice levels. Textures. Flavours. We were in our element. 3 hours and 3 million dishes and debates later, my s/o was in shock/awe at the level of details we were considering. 😂 What can I say, we love to feed, and we love to eat.

My favourite pic from our engagement shoot at Here’s to normalising black x Indian couples. ✊🏽✊🏾

I’m heading home next month and ma has already asked me to send her a list of everything I want her to cook whilst I’m home. Her love language is to feed and that’s why sitting down at the table to share a meal has always made the kitchen the heart of our home. Dad made sure we never had devices at the table, it was our sacred family time. Sometimes it was belly laughter, sometimes tears, other times even frustrations that needed to be addressed - but always our protected time. So as I sit writing a list to ma of all the dishes I can’t wait to devour, I am filled with gratitude. Food is love, food is home.

Had some pictures done for my new work headshot and this one made the cut. Might just seem like a picture but has made me reflect on what I’ve achieved since entering the world of work. No doubt it’s hard to be away from home, but to grow a career I’m enjoying is pretty damn cool and I’m grateful for that (and especially grateful for parents that worked hard so that I could take my life in any direction and place I wanted). ♥️