Moving out of your ancestral house when you’ve just started developing consciousness is a huge deal. I did not know what it would be like in the town – it was my version of moving out to the city. Parents decided they did not want a joint family anymore so they would construct a house in the town. Nobody asked my opinion of course; I was merely 11 years old. I remember the day I left home to go live in a very small rented house in the town. I cried. A lot. They said we would be back here every other week. I knew it wasn’t true. And my pre-teen intuition was right. It did not. We visited, sometimes. But it was never the same. My friends from the village looked at me as if I have come from some alien land. I went to the ground to play with them but it wasn’t the same. Both sides tried to pretend it was all okay; it was normal. It wasn’t. I wasn’t one of them anymore. I was someone from “the town”. We moved a few months after my dad’s younger sister got married. She and I used to sleep ...