One cool festival https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krishna_Janmashtami packed with a bunch of little moments, each one meant to be a sweet lead-up to one big night that kinda balances between the hard work and the vibe of worship. So, hey there! Welcome to “Flour On The Counter Krishna In The House: Our Janmashtami One Thing At A Time.”

Just a few little things for a massive night, somewhere between grinding at work and getting into the holiday spirit. The house was buzzing with festive vibes, all while the usual daily routine kept rolling on around it.

To know the deets of Vrindhavan echoes with the symphony of Janmashtami, click on Vrindavan Echoes: Janmashtami Symphony – Wander, Feast & Thrive

Our Janmashtami One Thing At A Time : Flour On The Counter Krishna In The House

It all started without any big plans. After three and a half years away from making traditional bakshanams, I wanted to see if the spark was still there. Unsure if my hands still remembered the process, I could have bought everything ready-made, but I chose to make them at home for neivedyam. So I decided to give it a try.

Thankfully, my mother is always there for me. Whenever I feel stressed about something, she becomes available. This time, she steered me through video calls while I shopped for groceries. I couldn’t find a few specific ingredients, so I adapted with what was available. That became the pattern for my preparation; I had a plan, but the day had its own, and I kept adjusting in between.

I would have soaked and dried the rice before grinding it into a fine powder to enhance the bakshanams’ texture and taste. However, after three and a half years, I opted for store-bought rice flour instead. I dry-fried the urad dal until golden, cooled it, ground it to a fine powder, and sieved it.

I Dry Fried One Cup Of Rice Flour Until It Became Slightly Cream Coloured : Our Janmashtami One Thing At A Time

And also I dry-fried one cup of rice flour until it turned a beautiful cream color, then let it cool, anticipation bubbling within me. The next morning, after enjoying my tea and tending to chores, I sifted the flour carefully, removing any unwanted bits, and repeated this with another one and a half cups. By then, the kitchen buzzed with the promise of an early festival.

By evening, I had chopped the coconut into small pieces and left the unsalted butter outside to soften. Once everything was ready, I finally started making the bakshanams. I began with sweet seedai. Rice flour, urad dal powder, butter, white sesame seeds, coconut pieces, jaggery syrup and cardamom powder went together into the dough. I kept it aside and took a small break.

I quickly cleaned up, turned on the lamp, and rushed to the kitchen. With excitement, I prepared uppu seedai, enjoying the flavors of asafoetida and salt. I added water, feeling the dough become soft but firm. Carefully, I shaped small balls, laying them on a cloth to dry before their crispy dance in hot oil.

This Was A Step I Did Not Want To Rush To Avoid Bursting : Flour On The Counter Krishna In The House

This was a step I did not want to rush. Seedai can burst while frying due to excess moisture or mishandling. Drying the rolled seedai on a cloth helps reduce that risk, but doesn’t eliminate it. I heated the oil and added a few seedai at a time, leaving them alone to avoid discovering the hard way what happens when seedai misbehave in hot oil.

The seedai slowly turned a lovely golden brown, and with a sense of anticipation, I took them out and drained them in a strainer, carefully watching the excess oil drip away. I felt a sense of accomplishment as I completed the uppu seedai, and I couldn’t help but feel a little pride that, against all odds, mine didn’t burst, touch wood.

Next came thattai, the delightful, flat, round deep-fried snack that promises a burst of flavor! The ingredients, rich and vibrant, included soaked chana dal for authenticity. I cut two sheets of plastic, placed a ball of dough between them, and pressed it flat, but the thattai did not flatten as I had hoped. Undeterred, I fried them anyway, excited to see the result!

The Taste Was Pleasant But The Texture Was Lacking : Our Janmashtami One Thing At A Time

The taste was pleasant, but the texture was lacking. I took a moment to collect myself before continuing with dinner preparations. The sweet seedai didn’t quite meet my expectations, and after a long day of juggling kitchen chaos and other tasks, I finally gave in to dinner and ended my day feeling tired yet satisfied.

The next morning was magical. I soaked the rice for the kolam and carefully made Lord Krishna’s footprints, putting my heart into it. I tried to refry the sweet seedai, but it didn’t work out. Although things didn’t go as planned, the day felt special because it was my birthday, filling each moment with joy and wonder.

So there was double happiness in the house. I set up the Krishna idols and arranged everything for the pooja. I also made poha jaggery ladoos for prashad. At one point, I had to run to the grocery store. Then I had to run again. Having a grocery store right in front of the apartment felt like a blessing that day.

The pooja happened after 6 p.m. By the time everything was done, I was completely exhausted. But there was still another part of the evening waiting. My family arrived at night, and the birthday celebrations followed. We celebrated, had dinner together and finally called it a day. Huh. What a festive celebration.

One Big Festival So Many Little Preparations : Flour On The Counter Krishna In The Houses

One big festival. So many little preparations. Nothing happened all at once. It came together slowly, through grocery shopping, flour, dough, hot oil, video calls with my mother, things that worked, things that didn’t, quick trips to the store, a pooja after 6 p.m., and a birthday tucked into the middle of it all.

This Janmashtami reminded me not to take familiarity for granted. Just because I’ve made the same bakshanams before doesn’t mean I can walk into the kitchen with total confidence. A long break changes things, and even with the same recipe, my hands need to find their rhythm again. Overconfidence can backfire, and this time I received a practical reminder of that.

Still, I wouldn’t alter how this festival unfolded. The imperfect seedai, the not-so-perfect thattai, the extra trips to the store, the fatigue, the shared laughter, my mother’s loving guidance through a screen, the pooja, the birthday celebration, and the family dinner all beautifully intertwined to create a day filled with cherished memories.

This year, Janmashtami unfolded in our home not through a single grand moment, but rather through a tapestry of heartfelt experiences woven together. It began with days filled with eager preparation, leading into one long, heartfelt day that felt both exhausting and joyous. As our little Krishna arrived, our home buzzed with love and activity, a beautiful reminder of the significance of togetherness until everything was finally completed.