What other dish sparks regional rivalry, family loyalty, and childhood nostalgia all at once? Poha does—and now it even has a global day to prove it.

When I first heard that June 7 was being celebrated as World Poha Day—or Vishwa Poha Diwas—I was surprised. Don’t get me wrong, I am the biggest fan of poha, but having a day around it was what surprised me.

So, I googled to find out who created this day, but Google failed to provide me with this information. Perhaps, like all great traditions, it started with one passionate fan, spread by word of mouth, and now we have World Poha Day. Whatever its origin, I’m here for it.

Because poha holds a special place in my life. Kanda poha—the Maharashtrian version with onions—is the first dish I ever learned to make, at the age of 13. It was also the first dish that sparked my love for cooking. Growing up in Pune, it was a staple in our home—quick, economical, and made from ingredients found in every Maharashtrian kitchen. I made it every day after school until I mastered it. I ate it with such loyalty that my family grew tired of it. I didn’t. I still haven’t.

Over time, I experimented. I added potatoes, peas, and carrots. I paired it with dal, and once even tried it with sambar (it was blah!). My boldest fusion? Eating poha with my mom’s Kerala-style fish curry. It raised eyebrows in my household, especially from my sister, who looked at me like I’d betrayed two culinary traditions. But I ignored the looks because I loved poha and its adaptable nature. I’m sure if any other purist had seen me experimenting with poha this way, they would have banished me from their sight.

That’s the beauty of poha, it creates a kind of love and loyalty that very few dishes enjoy.

This loyalty takes a heated turn when a Maharashtrian and Indori (a person from Indore) meet, and both start claiming it as their own. I belong to Maharashtra, so you know which side I’ll always defend.

But if you peek into history, you will know that kanda poha originated in Maharashtra under the Holkar dynasty and then along with them it made its way to Indore in Madhya Pradesh. It then evolved and took a different shape—with Jeeravan masala, sev, pomegranate seeds, and a side of jalebi. The Indori version is now a beloved street food with a character all its own–with the sweet and savoury combination.

In Maharashtra too, this versatile poha has many forms.

There’s dadpe pohe (an uncooked version made by mixing poha with various ingredients and pressing to let the flavours marry), dahi pohe (with curd and spices), kolache pohe (with coconut milk and tamarind), and sodyache pohe (with dried prawns). In some parts, poha is also served with misal as misal poha—a hearty, fiery combination.

Once seen as a ‘poor man’s meal,’ poha was the go-to for mill workers in Mumbai and Nagpur—an affordable, filling snack that was easy on the stomach and heavy on sustenance. It even played a symbolic role in arranged marriages, where serving tea and poha to a prospective groom’s family was almost a ritual.

So, yes—poha deserves a day of its own. It’s not just food; it’s memory, identity, adaptability, and comfort. It’s the kind of dish that doesn’t just fill your stomach—it fills your heart too.

Happy World Poha Day! Let’s eat some and celebrate.

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