Exploring our desi side on Devon Street

Today, we decided to immerse ourselves in the vibrant culture of Devon Street, Chicago's bustling desi hub. The street was alive with the aromas of spices and the sounds of bustling markets, transporting us straight to India . From crispy dosas to rich haleem, we settled on a Pakistani brunch that would have delighted Sana, our little desi food lover. The journey there was a long subway ride, offering a chance for introspection. As I gazed at the passing stations, it struck me how, as parents, our train had been stationary for a long time at a station named Sana. We had paused everything to care for her, support her, and love her unconditionally. But now, without her, the destination seemed irrelevant. It's hard to articulate my emotions. It feels almost like being high, a state of hallucination where everything around me moves in slow motion while my thoughts remain paralyzed. The world continues its relentless pace, but time has lost meaning for us. On Devon Street, we wandered through shops brimming with colorful saris, and glittering bangles, and the grocery stores. The air was filled with the chatter of families, the sizzle of street food, and the aroma of kebabs and naans. It was a sensory overload that mirrored the chaos inside my heart. We finally settled into a cozy restaurant adorned with traditional Pakistani decor—bright tapestries, intricate wood carvings, and the comforting hum of Urdu conversations. I ordered Sana’s favorite dishes: spicy chicken biryani, butter chicken, and nihari. I ate double the amount today, savoring each bite as if it were a communion with her memory. It was a bittersweet feast, a small tribute to our beloved desi food enthusiast who would have enjoyed every morsel. As we finished our meal, I realized that while our train may have paused, it hadn’t derailed. We will continue to journey forward, carrying Sana’s love for desi food, and life in our hearts.