“So, I heard you’re from Bombay?”
“Um…No, not exactly”
You see, when I was 10, my parents took the monumental decision of making the shift from Chennai, the city I was born in, to Mumbai, a city I had heard of mostly in movies. Leaving behind the Tamil-speaking, lungi-clad populace of Chennai, I felt lost. It had never occurred to me before that there was anything out of the ordinary about being from Punjab and growing up in the opposite end of the country. I ate vadais and pappadums at the neighbours’ house and wore pattu-pavadais on festivals. I went to a school where P.T. teachers ran around wearing crisp silk sarees and kicked the ball with the ease of one wearing football shorts. I was more coconut water than lassi; more Rajnikanth than Honey Singh.