The morning sun streams into the kitchen where a mother is stirring dalia in a big pan. Her teenager, half-asleep, slurs, “Why not cornflakes, Maa? They look cooler.”

She chuckles softly, “Beta, thoda cool ban’na hai ya thoda strong rehna hai?”

           Dalia is made by cracking whole wheat, which means that it retains bran, germ, and endosperm. And that is the magic — fiber, vitamins, minerals, and natural energy in one.

          The teen frowns. “But how does that matter?”

            She smiles, fiber, my kid, is like nature’s broom. It helps in smoothening digestion, gives a feeling of satiety, and prevents unnecessary cravings. That’s the reason athletes, farmers, and even soldiers in the past believed in a bowl of dalia—it sustains.

                 While stirring and adding some veggies, she says, ‘It also carries plant-based protein, which supports muscles in recovering post-effort. Dalia hides numerous minerals—magnesium for balance, phosphorus for strength, zinc for support, and B-complex vitamins that help the body use energy efficiently.

            The boy, in amazement, says, ‘So, it’s like fuel?

            Yes, but a slow-releasing fuel. Rather than a sudden spark with a boom… then vanishing the next moment with a blink of an eye, Dalia is expected to give a steady flame — complex carbs provide energy at a slow rate, which keeps the body active instead of crashing down suddenly. That's why many families in India feed their children a bowl of dalia as their first solid food — easy to digest yet nourishing.

             The smell spreads throughout the room as she pours it with a spoonful of ghee. The boy tastes it unwillingly and stops. Maa, this, this feels good.

            She smiles knowingly. This is the secret of dalia: it does not boast of its power, but when you embrace it, it becomes your silent friend.

             Science refers to it as fiber-rich, protein-friendly, vitamin-packed broken wheat. In households, however, Dalia has always been a patient nurturer — making sure that meals not only fill the stomach but nourish life. The boy takes another spoonful and says, “I guess I won’t have cornflakes tomorrow.”

The mother smiles, and the kitchen fills with the mute victory of custom over science.