When I was growing up, we all knew families that were on the way down. Once prosperous or even wealthy, undermined by a generation or two of profligacy and self-indulgence. The impressive house was falling.
I was six when I first tasted Chinese food. Pigeon Roast in a restaurant called Eros, at the edge of Kolkata’s crumbling ‘New’ Market, a plump little bird rich with what I now know to.
I must have been six or seven when for the first and probably last time, my parents were invited to a New Year’s Eve party along with the children. It was in a big house.
India News: My great-great-grandfather is one of the figures that most families probably have (or need to invent), whose impractical ways lost us our one chance o.