India, Feb. 4 -- My first memory of this panjiri goes back to winter evenings at home, when the air outside felt crisp and smoky, and the whole house smelled of roasted wheat, ghee and dry fruits. My mother would always be stirring a heavy kadhai on a slow flame, patiently roasting gond until it puffed and turned delicate. I remember my grandmother gently breaking the haritaki and explaining how every ingredient had a purpose - not just taste, but care. There was comfort in sitting close to the chulha or oven, watching this simple, earthy mix turn into something nourishing. Eating the first warm bowl of panjiri always felt like being wrapped in a soft shawl - a reminder that winter was not something to fight, but something to prepare for ...