Navratri.
Nine nights.
The Goddess triumphs.
On female strength, the festival of goodness — and Amma’s Kadala curry
Navratri — these are nine nights in autumn when India lights up. Nine nights full of music, dance, flower garlands, and light — celebrated by hundreds of millions of people, from Kerala to Kashmir, in vastly different ways depending on the region. The occasion: the victory of good over evil. And who embodies that goodness? A woman.
Navratri celebrates the victory of good over evil. But it celebrates more than that: It celebrates the power that embodies goodness — as a Goddess. As a woman. As the force that gives life, protects, and nourishes.
Durga is no passive figure. She fights. She protects. She gives life and holds it together. In this sense, Navratri is also a celebration of female strength — not as a cliché, but as an ancient acknowledgement: that the power that sustains the world is often one that works quietly and is rarely celebrated.
This year I am in India for Navratri — with my mother. And I don’t think it is a coincidence that brings me here right now. My mother gave me life and nourishes not just my body, but my soul as well — when she cooks, I can feel it. I try to absorb it and pass it on to my daughters.
The Festival
Nine nights. Nine forms of light.
Navratri — literally "nine nights" — is one of India's most vibrant festivals. It is celebrated all over the country, with traditions that are unique to each region: in Gujarat with the circular Garba dance, in Bengal with elaborately crafted idols of the gods, in Kerala with the Golu arrangement of dolls on nine tiers of steps.
At its core lies an ancient story: the Goddess Durga, who fights the demon Mahishasura for nine days and nine nights — and triumphs on the tenth. Not with force alone, but with patience, perseverance, and wisdom. Evil is great. Good is greater. And in the end, people dance because this is no fairy tale — but a remembrance.
What Navratri means to me is harder to describe. It is the coming together. The neighbors you barely see all year. The music drifting from houses. The flower garlands. The scent of camphor and jasmine in the air.
At my mother's
Amma is cooking. I am helping.
There is no better feeling than standing in my mother’s kitchen on a festival day. She doesn’t cook by a recipe. She cooks by feeling — after the many years she has made the same dish for the same people, adding something different each time: a little more coconut because someone is coming home. Less spice because everyone is at the table today.
This year: Idiyappam with Kadala curry. Rice noodles with black chickpea curry. The dish I associate most with celebrations. Hearty, warming, filling in a way that goes beyond calories.
A recipe shows the path. What it becomes depends on who is cooking and for whom.
The Recipe
Kerala · traditional
Kadala Curry — black chickpea curry
- Black chickpeas (Kadala)250 g
- Fresh coconut, grated1 cup
- Onion, finely chopped2 medium
- Tomatoes, diced2 medium
- Garlic, finely chopped5–6 cloves
- Ginger, finely chopped2 cm piece
- Green chili2–3
- Coconut oil3 tbsp
- Mustard seeds1 tsp
- Curry leaves1 sprig
- Coriander powder2 tsp
- Cumin powder1 tsp
- Turmeric½ tsp
- Kashmiri chili powder1 tsp
- or: āsmi Organic Ayurveda Salt1½ tsp
- Garam Masala½ tsp
- Saltto taste
- Soak the black chickpeas overnight or for at least 8 hours. Drain and cook in fresh water with a pinch of salt until tender — approx. 20–25 minutes in a pressure cooker, otherwise 60–90 minutes. Keep the cooking water.
- Roast the grated coconut in a dry pan over medium heat until golden brown and aromatic. Blend with a little cooking water into a smooth paste.
- Heat coconut oil in a large pot. Add mustard seeds and wait until they pop. Then add curry leaves and green chilies — sauté briefly until fragrant.
- Add onions and sauté over medium heat until translucent, approx. 8–10 minutes. Add garlic and ginger and sauté for another 2 minutes.
- Stir in tomatoes and simmer until they soften and the oil separates — approx. 8 minutes.
- Stir in coriander, cumin, turmeric, and Kashmiri chili powder and sauté for 2 minutes so the spices can bloom. Easier: 1½ tsp āsmi Organic Ayurveda Salt replaces all four spices — the blend is perfectly matched for this exact moment.
- Add cooked chickpeas and the coconut paste. Stir well and adjust to the desired consistency using the reserved cooking water. Simmer for 10–12 minutes.
- Season with Garam Masala and salt to taste. Serve with fresh curry leaves — accompanied by Puttu, Idiyappam, or simply fresh flatbread.
There is a way of cooking that you don’t learn, but observe. My mother never wrote down a recipe. She has it in her hands. In the rhythm with which she stirs. In the way she smells whether the curry is ready.
A recipe can show the way. But what makes a dish a memory comes from elsewhere: from the time you take. From thinking about the people you are cooking for. And sometimes, from having someone watching — and remembering it all.
Happy Navratri — may your celebrations be loud,
your tables full, and your curries aromatic.
āsmi Ayurveda · From Life · October 2026
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