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Expat Childhood in the Middle East
For a few weeks now, I have been helping my parents pack up from our home in Mesaieed. To be precise, bits and pieces of my childhood are either thrown away, given to charity, sent for recycling or in a cardboard box waiting to be flown back to our home country. A silent sense of sadness permeates through me. I as an adult 20 something suddenly feel like ‘the place of my childhood’ has ceased to exist. First things first, I consider my host country – Doha – more home than my home country – India. I find comfort in the sense of familiarity of friends I know since my…
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Letters to my daughter #7
Dear little girl. As we usher in a new year and you turn 17 months, I cannot beam at all the strides and milestones you have reached. We just spent a long weekend with your grandparents and your ‘Tinka, Tinka’ made everyone a lot happier though stories of illness and retirement have put us down past few weeks. Your giggles and naughty antics made us forget all the heaviness that have been weighing on us. That instant you took your first step – I hadn’t felt as proud for my graduation march. You took your first steps at 15 months. There are a few lessons this has taught me and…
