This clarity didn’t come overnight. In fact, the name Girija and the philosophy of authentic, traditionally made Maharashtrian food emerged much later in the journey. When we first decided to turn this idea into a real business, I found myself stuck on one deeply unsettling question: What does my business truly stand for?
People around us tasted our samples and responded with warmth. They appreciated the flavours, encouraged us to go ahead, and their validation gave us confidence that we were doing something right. Yet, despite all that positivity, there was a constant restlessness within me. I wasn’t worried about whether people liked the food—I was worried about the purpose. About the larger picture. About whether this would just become another food brand, or something more meaningful.
What followed was a long phase of thinking, discussions, self-doubt, and a lot of procrastination. I questioned everything—why we were doing this, what made us different, and whether we even deserved a place in an already crowded space. It was only after sitting with these doubts for a long time that the answer finally revealed itself, almost quietly but with absolute clarity.
I realized that what I truly wanted to offer was the authentic Maharashtrian taste—the kind that carries memories of home, kitchens run by our mothers and ajjis, recipes passed down without measurements, and food made with honesty rather than shortcuts. That moment was my epiphany. Once that purpose became clear, everything else simply aligned. The name, the branding, the design—they didn’t need force or overthinking anymore. They flowed naturally, guided by that single, honest intention: to preserve and serve the true soul of Maharashtrian food.


