As I stood massaging the cabbage with copious amounts of salt for the Kimchi, my thoughts drifted to a place where I spent a lot of my early school days.
Right in the middle of a very busy market street, a road with the honks of scooters and auto rickshaws and the bells of the cyclists, kids playing marbles on the side of the roads was a norm. There were so many stray dogs and cows walking like they owned the roads. The homes were all quite tightly packed, and a lot of them were built in the early 19oo’s. Made of brick and wooden roofs, rough walls, and carved wooden doors with so many subtle nuances was my Maternal Grandparents’ home, famously known as “Ayya’s home.”
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