On Being a Good Human, and Making an Impact

What does that mean to you?

The first funeral I remember attending was a surreal experience.

I was about 8, I think. I got home from school and my mum was dressed in a dark blue sari (which was an oddity in itself, she mostly wore long dresses we called housecoats) and we immediately rushed off to my uncle’s house without a second thought for the day’s homework to be done (another…