When I was 5, I showed my father the back of my hand: "This is my Indian side." I flipped my hand over: "And this is my white side." My father indulged me until I was about 7, when he patiently explained, "That's not how it works, love. Everyone's palms are lighter than the backs of their hands. You don't literally have 'two sides.'" Now, at 29, I look at my light brown hand and still see both of my parents — but also possibility in their mixture. I have two sides, and I create a third. — Sitara Mahtani
Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of "positively purging", as I know each of these pieces represents something…
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