I felt at home in a city boiling with chaotic colors, feelings, and voices. A language once sounding like hard k’s and strong p’s becoming familiar and soft. At home because of the unparalleled difference. At home because it was nothing like I knew or was used to. At home because of my Indian sister who made me feel I was home. That I belonged here. Part of a family. A warm, embracing, caring family. Not a family related through blood, but a family coming into your life by coincidence.

When I arrived in this country, with a bag filled with hopes, dreams, anxieties, and expectations, my Indian sister helped me unpack and store my belongings in the cupboards of my new home. Taking me by the hand, with patience and an understanding of my struggle, she helped me navigate through the shallow waters of my new life. Real time translation, crazy party nights, long talks, jokes, and lots of food. She asks me to ‘try this’ or ‘did you have this’ or tell me to ‘have it’. With an Indian sister, you will have it all. 

I feel the richest person alive with the knowledge that every single day my life is open with all possibilities ahead and I have a family in many places in this world. Because in the end, the people you consider to be your family are all that matters in life.

My dearest Indian sister, who I will physically leave behind in this country, will be in my heart and memories, and therefore never forgotten or lost. She will be part of my life in all what has yet to come, as she is a part of what has been.