That summer morning was lively, with my grandchildren running around the hall, sipping morning milk between giggles and laughter. As I walked into the kitchen, Karthikeya quietly followed me, holding his glass of milk.

“Ammamma, what are you making today?” he asked, leaning at the doorway.

I smiled as I mixed rava with finely chopped onions, grated carrots, and fresh coriander. “What do you want to have?” I asked, stirring the batter delicately.

As I poured the freshly made batter onto the hot pan, the instant sizzle and aroma filled the air.

“Rava dosa?!!” Karthikeya’s eyes lit up, recognising the breakfast. “I love it, Ammamma!” he said, stepping closer.
“Amma makes it every Sunday, and you know she sneaks in all the vegetables I don’t like”, he said, making big hand gestures. “But because it’s crisp, and delicious, I still eat three big dosas!” he continued proudly.

I laughed. “Then I must make this dosa every day. Since you came here, you have been skipping vegetables,” I teased.

“But Amma says it takes a lot of time to mix everything. That’s why she makes it only once a week. Do you have time to make it every day?” he asked innocently.

I patted his head gently. “Yes, my little one. Anything for you.”

That vacation, as Karthikeya left, I tucked a jar of Rava Dosa ready mix into his bag — so that whenever he asked, Anupama could instantly make him his favourite light, crispy rava dosa.