Rathod Parivar Madh
The family's shared space for everyday stories, photos and announcements.
From the parivar
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Family stories
Short memories written down by the parivar, so they stay with the family for generations.
I still remember the first Khamani I made in Likhala, on a coal stove behind the vada. My saas tasted one bite, said nothing, and asked for more — that was her way of saying it was perfect. Meera banave tyare hu pan aaj ekda extra taste maru chhu.
Deevji kaka used to walk the whole village boundary before every sowing season, barefoot, checking the soil with his fingers. "Miti ne vanchvu shikho," he told me — learn to read the soil. I still do it every season, and now Aarav walks beside me.
When I was eight, I hid behind Dadi's ghaghro during the Kuldevi Mahotsav aarti because the drums were too loud. Dadi held my hand through the whole aarti without turning around. Aaje pan Mahotsav ma drums sambhdiye tyare tamaru haath yaad aave chhe.
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