A passage through youth

Until I was old enough to learn how to pack my bag (which was much after I learned to tie my shoelaces), it was my mother who arranged things for me—the clothes I should take, the books I should read, the board games I should play, and the stuff I should carry, as she took me and my two younger brothers every alternate summer to Nadiad, where my grandparents lived, and then to whichever city in Gujarat my aunt and uncle were living in at the time.

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