I was often called Kamla Bobo’s Chadi (walking stick to my paternal grandmother Kamla Bhatnagar). My grandma ran the house. My parents, siblings and I lived with her in New Delhi. This dish was one of the couple of potato dishes that she loved. This was mostly made in the evenings. She enjoyed it with Chapatis, pooris and parathas. Equally.
The art of letting go - Slice of Life/Indian Express
Saturday, October 16, 2021
When I was 20 I fell in love with an Australian artist in NYC. He moved in with me, and five months later I came home to an empty apartment. I began looking for clues to his disappearance and soon realised my student loan and any meagre savings had vanished with him. He left me broken, betrayed, and full of anger and regret. New emotions for me. He also left me with a choice. Would I allow this one person and one moment in time to become the lens through which I observed life and love? Would I opt to live in a body and mind drowning in a cesspool of depressive emotions? Or would I choose to let go of the hurt and move on to love again?
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