This memory has stayed with me and perhaps always will. When I was young, my grandmother used to come to our house to make paranthas (punjabi stuffed flatbreads). She would make them and send some to my dad at his shop, to my uncle at his house and then take some home for themselves. The house would smell of them for the rest of the day. Whenever I smell paranthas when I come home from work, it takes me back to that time. I can still picture her ringing the door bell and spending all her time in our kitchen before going back home.
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