It was the year 1991. July of that year signified two important changes in my life. I lost my paternal grandmother to cancer on the 6th of that month and on the 21st my family was moving away from Indian shores to take up residence in Nairobi, Kenya to start a new life.
As a teenager, both these events hit me hard. The first was my closest brush with death, a fact that became difficult for me to accept. I recall sitting by the body, willing her to wake up and speak to me the way she always would. At the other end of the spectrum was the excitement building up at the idea of moving to a new country. My adolescent brain found the juxtaposition of these emotions very challenging to accept.