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In Bombay now.

It was raining a lot when I reached.

Anyway, all the way from the airport, I was thinking about how I will find mom. She is unwell but she was so happy to see me. She mentioned with some pride that I have the prettiest face in the world.

Then she slept.

This business of returning home is interesting. I think if you live keenly enough, you sense just how different and how similar you are to your family members. It is weird how coping mechanisms can differ sharply.

Anyway. The important thing is that everyone is getting through.

I am really amazed at my father, though. He has always been really strong but now, I see a striking dimension of his strength - to stay calm and present and put up with people's panic and cluelessness. Especially relartives who say things that are so insensitive but they insist that it is coming from some place of good intentions or such shit. Actually, the fact that it is so thoughtless may in fact mean that it is coming from a good place. A friend had once told me about a song that meant something along the lines that I fucked up so badly only means that I loved you so.

My father is an incredible man.





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