“Darling darling, dil kyun toda, thoda peelo peelo doodh soda.”
When I heard Gaurav Gera mouth this line in the film Dhurandhar, a distant memory stirred, I noticed it, acknowledged it, and promptly shrugged it aside because I was too engrossed in the film.
But memory is a stubborn thing.
It doesn’t always fade when you ask it to. Sometimes it nudges. Sometimes it taps. And sometimes it waits patiently till you’re standing in the shower, shampoo in your hair, when your mind is inexplicably at its most productive.
That’s when it hit me.
Doodh Soda.
Crystal clear. Like yesterday.
And just like that, I was transported to summer Sunday mornings, ripe with anticipation, when my Chachas (Dad’s younger brothers) would make Doodh Soda for us… and the entire neighbourhood.
Clean, new buckets were brought out. Steel and aluminium ones, because plastic wasn’t a thing yet. A massive slab of ice, caked generously in sawdust, arrived early in the morning. Litres of milk followed. And then came the slim glass bottles with Dukes printed on them, holding that ruby-hued Raspberry Soda like a liquid jewel.
Milk was poured into the buckets. Pails of doodh were always a thing in the Sharma household.
The ice was washed clean of sawdust and then stabbed mercilessly with an ice pick until jagged shards formed. These glassy chunks found their way into the buckets, now half-filled with milk. Someone stirred. Someone laughed. Someone commented. Someone argued. All at once.
My sister and I waited eagerly.
Please note, we were both children who hated milk. Would not touch it otherwise. But Doodh Soda? We were first in line.
When the milk was sufficiently chilled, the Dukes’ Raspberry Soda bottles were brought forward. Titu Chacha uncapped them using his teeth.
Completely unnecessary. Hugely impressive.
As the soda was poured into the snowy milk, it blushed faintly… before deepening into that unmistakable pink. There was always a debate over how much soda to add. No one ever agreed. Eventually, Puppy Chacha, the chief stirrer, decided. When he stopped stirring, everyone else did too.
That was the signal.
Distribution began.
We were a family of twelve, though it never felt like just twelve. Friends and neighbours were always part of our Sunday shenanigans. Everyone brought their vessel of choice. Steel glasses. Tumblers. Flasks. Sometimes, odd mismatched cups.
All were filled to the brim with Doodh Soda.
I don’t know if it tasted divine because it was Doodh Soda…or because of the memories it came wrapped in.
Because today, many of those voices are no longer around that bucket.
Titu Chacha. Puppy Chacha. Baboo Chacha. Rajo Bua. Saroj Bua – are no more.
Gone.
The laughter has thinned. The arguments about soda-to-milk ratios have fallen silent. The hands that stirred, poured, uncapped bottles with teeth, they exist now only in memory.
And yet, when I think of Doodh Soda, I don’t think of absence first.
I think of abundance. I think of love. I think of laughter. I think of warmth.
Of a time when Sundays were crowded, noisy, and gloriously inconvenient. When the house smelled of milk. When neighbours didn’t need invitations. When love was poured generously, with no measuring cups in sight.
Food has a way of doing this, of holding people long after they’ve left.
It remembers them for us.
In the pink blush of milk and soda, I still see my Chachas standing tall, handsome, shirtless, enjoying their own importance. Heads thrown back in laughter and cuss words lovingly punctuating each sentence. I still hear my Buas’ voices, amused, indulgent, gently bossy, constantly reprimanding their brothers for ‘using cuss words in front of Baby and Bintu’. For a moment, they are all back. Alive. Loud. Exactly where they belong.
Relationships changed. Feelings did too.
Time did what time always does.
But memories, they are what change doesn’t touch.
In my memory, I will always be the precious, chubby-cheeked Baby to my Chachas and Buas. Always held a second longer. Always indulged. Always loved without conditions, calculations, or conversations.
That version of me still exists.
And so do they.
Maybe that’s what memory really is. Not just looking back, but being visited.
And maybe that’s why some flavours stay with us forever because they don’t just remind us of what we drank.
They remind us of who we loved.
“Darling darling, dil kyun toda…”
Doodh Soda is a traditional South Asian beverage made by mixing milk with a carbonated soft drink. The drink is especially popular in the Punjab region of both India and Pakistan, often served chilled on hot summer days or at festive occasions.
This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’
hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla in collaboration with Cerebration – Think with body, mind & soul.
Lovely beta Mayuri your Gudu Chacha remembers everything,really memory does not fade away,the write up states 50 years old instances where we all brothers would gather on a Sunday to make Doodh Soda in our iconic Sharma Building,our ancestral property.arguing ,using curse words,having an opinion which would be rejected completely by the other brother using curse words.Yes it was like a Sunday ritual where the entire neighbourhood would come without invitation,it was like love thy neighbours.I am surprised Mayuri beta you were so small and you still remember all the activities of your chachas and bhaus though you and Bintu were the apple of our eyes.Thanks for writing your thoughts,laughter,fun time we all had together which is still etched in our memory and would remain till our last breath. Your loving chacha, Gudu Chacha.
My version of doodh soda mornings is the shaadis in the house, the dholki, the cousins, midnight chai and food and all singing tappe, heere saletiye and all of us giggling over the strange Punjabi words. Thank you for bringing them back.
Thank you Mayuri for this beautiful piece of memories and Doodh Soda… I have never physically tasted this unique drink but I did enjoy it through your writings..
Memories are all we’re left with..
People, places and Doodh soda
Cheers darling girl…
Such a heartwarming piece — your memories with thr drink truly brought to life the laughter, love, and togetherness of those golden days. Beautifully written!
Your post brought back those long summer day and those cool summer evenings back.I remember those milk sodas , I never had them but my little one loved them. I tried recreating that at home for her but the milk -soda ratio remained elusive.
Wow! Never heard of doodh soda until this highly nostalgic blog of yours. So lovely. The visuals came alive through your writing. I was transported to the Sharma household, watching the fun and laughter unfold. Indeed, those days seem gone, not just the people who peopled them. But our hearts fill with warmth at the memories. Thank you for kindling some of my lost memories with my uncles, aunts, and cousins too.
Kithe lay gayi, Mayuri For me it was my mama’s house and a battalion of cousins. Although we were in Vijayawada, Doodh soda was a thing. The slab of ice in sawdust and covered with gunny bags. The chiselling and the giggles when the ice shards flew all over. One should remember the nostalgic moments. Think of people gone with fond memories.
That is something new for me. But it sounds quite delicious, especially as a summer drink. And how a simple drink brought back loving memories of the past is also astonishing.
I’ve never had doodh soda, nor have I heard of it. But through your writing, you made me visualize the entire scene that played out in your house on Sundays. Indeed, we are all so lucky to have had such moments with our extended family and neighbors. If only technology hadn’t invaded our lives…we would still be living a stress-free, happy life, filled with laughter and wonderful moments.
A heartwarming piece. I feel I know your chachas too after reading this! Loved the way the doodh soda became an integral part of your childhood and memory ..sadly never have tasted it !
You know people change, situations change, and all become memories. Sometimes sweeter. the memories were the bittereras they became later. Your milk soda is filled with joy and sweetness.
I loved reading this — it felt like a quiet conversation with a thoughtful friend. The way you wove memories of doodh soda with reflections on yesterday made me smile and think about my own small moments. It’s honest, warm, and genuinely comforting to read.
I’ve never tasted doodh soda. Can you believe it? Reading this post though included me in your beautiful and thrilling, as always with family, experience. I could almost lose myself in those Sunday shenanigans!
“Food has a way of doing this, of holding people long after they’ve left.
It remembers them for us.”
And just like that you reminded me of so many memories around food, especially those with the family.
Wow, I have never heard of Doodh Soda before, but the way you wrote it made it feel so real and familiar. I could picture the buckets, the noise, and the excitement. It felt warm at first and then a little heavy at the end. Such a lovely memory to share.
We all have some or the other memory tangled with family and food. But I am still fascinated and intrigued by this doodh soda thing. Never have imagined till I saw Dhurandhar. I would like to try this one day soon.
Reading this felt like sitting quietly in a corner of your childhood, watching Sundays unfold. I smiled, then paused, then swallowed a lump. The way you held joy and absence together felt honest and intimate. Some memories don’t shout, they stay.
I’m not even a milk person, but this made me crave Doodh Soda.
What a beautifully nostalgic piece! You’ve turned something as simple as doodh soda into a capsule of memory, emotion, and connection. Loved how the past and present blend without ever losing that sweet, fizzy feeling.
Loved how your post stirred such vivid, warm memories of summer mornings and family laughter around doodh soda and the way it connects past joys with the present so beautifully. Thank you for sharing that heartfelt moment with us.
what a precious memory – thank you for sharing with us, and reading your chacha’s heartfelt words in the comments section is such a lovely treat – THIS is what family and memories are all about.
PS: I have never had this drink.. but it sounds like summer joy 🙂
Summers are about to come and just before that this blog of yours dropped in front of me… this is Universe clear indication that summers will be truly magical this year. Doodh Soda story I will definately share with my kid and 200% he will love it. It made me feel nostalgic