Just when I am about to leave my house and when a family member hollers – Where are you going?, I go slightly nuts. Don’t ask me. Not when I’m about to step out. Maybe I have insidious plans, maybe I am sad, maybe I am on my way to freedom. Don’t judge me. I do answer the question in all my sweetness but I resent it internally. I don’t want to tell. In a way, its something I’ve learnt from my parents. In our culture, asking where you are off to just before you step out is considered rude. I would be ok to answer this though – When are you coming back?









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