Don’t be afraid to make mistakes When you used to bring home report cards, I used to scold you for getting Bs. My parents did the same thing. Only As were accepted in our household. Uncle Jeet (not his real name) and I both had shining report cards, or else we would get slapped. It bred in me a fear of failure.
The year I turned 31 was one of my best years. I married someone whom I believe is my soulmate. Up until that year, I had gone through a string of bad break ups. Three to be exact. Two of them were with ex-girlfriends who I used to love dearly. One of them was with an ex-fiance who I was head over
When I first told my mother that I was seeing someone, the first thing she asked me was if the girl was Bangali. I said no. She asked me where she was from. I said Korea. I couldn’t tell how she reacted over the phone, but I imagine she was either grimacing or looking down at the floor, downcast. At least
It’s a soul-crushing feeling when you see the friends you grew up with travelling around the world, living their dreams and advertising how wonderful their lives are on social media. I know I am not supposed to dwell on these thoughts, but I can’t help it sometimes. I went to a private English medium school in Delhi, one that my father bent
Growing up, he was never at my cricket games. He was not there when I won the debate competition in tenth grade. He sometimes attended parent-teacher conferences. When I went to university, he did not visit me until graduation day. It wasn’t the flight money that was the issue. My father was a wealthy man and he afforded us some of life’s