I had started to count kindness on my fingers. If you were like me, you barely got enough of it to fill in one hand, but I took what I could; I still do. I had learnt to lick it in scraps, taking whatever I could and storing it in a jar made of hope and I took a bit more out of it than I should have every time I was told I wasn’t enough. Which was every day.
Onam, a festival that people long to celebrate, a festival that brings everyone together, a festival that invokes joy and oneness, a festival close to the hearts of all Malayalis. But what does it look like from the perspective of someone who isn’t a Malayali. Read this piece to find out.