For children: How a jar of pickles can bring a family – even a neighbourhood – closer together

I woke up with Bebe’s words echoing in my mind: “The greatest treasures aren’t bought – they’re made, shared, and felt.”

The scent of spices, the warmth of the sun – they had all felt so real. But it was just a dream… wasn’t it?

I sat up, hugging my blanket, a small smile tugging at my lips as I thought of Bebe. It was suddenly easy to understand why Mumma called her the best.

I rushed to the kitchen where Mumma was sipping her morning chai, scrolling through her phone. I wanted to tell her everything, but... maybe not yet. I wanted to make this special for her too. I had a plan.

“Mumma,” I began casually, “can we make achaar?”

She raised an eyebrow and set her mug down. “Achaar?”

“I just … want to try it,” I said with a shrug.

She studied me curiously. “You didn’t even know achaar could be made at home until yesterday.”

I fidgeted. “I just think it would be fun. Like you said.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but didn’t press further. “Alright,” she said at last. “Let’s do it. But you’re going to help with everything.”

“Deal!” I grinned.

Later that afternoon, we visited the local bazaar. In those narrow, colourful lanes, bright green mangoes were piled high and the aroma of...

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