Chapters (27)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- My New Game
- There Is No Magic
- How Are You Today?
- Bling and the Ring
- The Delay
- Why Are They a Perfect Match?
- The City of Dreams
- Home Away from Home
- What Is Love?
- First Love
- Same but Different
- Do I Know You?
- Please Don’t Break My Heart!
- When Did It All Go Wrong?
- I Will Find You
- It Isn’t Meant to Be
- Whose Fault Was It?
- Welcome Home!
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- About the Publisher
It seems like it was just yesterday when I was a student at IIT-D, and it’s been hard to come to terms with the fact that in reality, many years have passed since then. I woke up in the morning today to a mixed bag of feelings in my heart. I was both happy and nervous all at once—happy because I was headed back to the campus after a long gap, despite living in the same city (although on an on-and-off basis); and nervous because I’m now an alum the students really look up to (I’m on the other side!). And to top it all, I’m also kind of sleepy because I wasted too much time on the internet last night, watching a new show on Netflix and then scrolling through the reels tab on Instagram.
When will I grow up?
‘Ahh! I’m not a student anymore!’ I sigh.
Rather, I’m on the panel of entrepreneurs who’ve been invited to the institute’s very own Shark Tank-like pitching event called Navachaar, a forum run by and for IIT-D students and alumni. The word ‘navachaar’ roughly translates to innovation in English. I know this now because it’s the first thing I googled while sitting on the toilet seat this morning. Now, my mother tongue is Malayalam, and I grew up in elite circles that value and propagate English like it’s their very own language. My Hindi, therefore, is not very strong. I’m a victim here, and I really can’t be blamed for this. But I’m making up for it in this new India that values our cultural roots like never before. I’m proud of my South Indian-accented English.
A little restless, I roll down the window of my car and partially stick my head out to breathe in the luxuriously fresh air that is rarer than sanjeevani booti in this polluted city. No, I’m not the one who’s driving. Since I’m almost always on the go, I prefer to be driven by our driver, Veeru Uncle. He’s been working for my family for so long now that he’s one of us.
Anyway, I’ve been wanting to invest in a startup or an initiative that addresses this air pollution issue for a long time now. But I’m yet to either come up with an innovative idea myself or find a bunch of individuals interested in taking it up. Pity!