I don't think I've ever really written this down before — so let's start at the beginning.
I'm originally from a small village called Barra, in Azamgarh, Uttar Pradesh. That's where my earliest memories live — growing up with my grandmother and my siblings, the three of us tangled up in that simple, unhurried village life. I was there until 2nd grade.
Then, like it happens for a lot of families chasing "better education," we packed up and moved to Lucknow. My uncle and aunt took us in, and for the next ten years — all the way through 12th grade — they were the ones who raised us, shaped us, showed up for us. Lucknow isn't just a city I lived in. It's the place where I actually grew up.
After school ended, everything changed again. I moved to Gurgaon — this time with my own parents, for the very first time living under one roof with them. It was completely new territory. New city, new pace, new version of "home." (Still laughing a little at how disorienting that shift was, if I'm honest.)
This November marks three years since I last went back to Lucknow.
I miss it. More than I probably let myself admit most days. But I made a promise to myself — I'm only going back once I've actually built something, once I've made a name for myself. Not out of stubbornness, but because I want that homecoming to mean something.
Right now, I'm pouring myself into a project that I hope — really hope — is the one that gets me there.
Barra gave me roots. Lucknow gave me my people and my foundation. Gurgaon is where I'm building. And somewhere down the line, I get to go back — not as the kid who left, but as someone who kept the promise.
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