Breakfast was a silent, sacred war. Idli and sambar for the parents. Leftover parathas with pickle for the grandfather. And for Aarav’s teenage sister, Maya, a rushed smoothie bowl she saw on Instagram, served in a coconut shell bowl. "That’s not Indian," the grandfather grumbled. "It is," Maya shot back. "The coconut is from Kerala." This is the secret: Indian culture absorbs the new and ferments it into something local.