I was in the wrong place at the wrong time in my life.
It’s a story that has been told to me by friends and acquaintances over the past decade.
In fact, it’s been told several times to me.
I grew up in a small town in the western state of West Bengal.
I was the only child, my parents told me.
My parents were doctors.
They knew they could save the lives of millions of people if they only knew what was going on in the world around them.
But I grew up thinking that there were no doctors.
I remember feeling like a small child.
I had no idea what I was doing and it was very confusing to be told that things were different in a world where everything was so different.
My life in West Bengal has changed dramatically since I left home at the age of 17.
My parents lost their jobs, my education began to falter and my father, a businessman, moved from his small village to a bigger city.
My younger brother, who is now a college student, has been a part of the same family for the past 18 years.
He was working as a plumber for the same company, a government-owned company that provides power to a large part of Bengal.
He was very proud of me.
I could walk into his office and tell him about the world that I was living in and the work I was performing for the government.
But then something happened.
I started missing my family and began to feel a sense of emptiness and loneliness.
I felt like I was lost.
My family had no power.
My father worked for the power company.
He got a job every three weeks, but I was never paid for it.
He worked long hours.
I spent my time sitting in the kitchen cooking, cleaning and washing dishes.
My brother and I spent our time playing cricket.
My mother, who worked as a housemaid, was very poor.
She was the sole breadwinner.
My family was poor and our family was not well off.
My aunt and my mother had to give up their house and home.
My father would come home every morning at 6:30am and stay at the house till 8pm to take care of us.
He would make us breakfast and dinner.
I would cook and clean.
I never had any money.
My mother said that she was not worried about me being sick or dying.
She was worried about us getting old and starving.
She would tell me, “Don’t worry.
If you die, I’ll give you a pension”.
My mother’s family lived in a poor neighborhood.
My grandmother lived in the same area and she was the one who gave us the first bread and rice we needed to eat.
I learnt how to cook and bake.
I also learnt how the local people lived and how to take pride in their culture.
The first year I was at school, my mother was sick.
She had a fever and was not able to go to school.
She worked very hard and was able to keep up with her responsibilities.
My uncle worked as an electrician, so he had to help my mother clean up the house, wash dishes and make tea.
She spent most of her time helping her family.
When I got to college, I went on a business course and became an accountant.
I used to tell my parents that I had a business degree.
I did not know about a PhD at the time.
I told them that I wanted to work for the people.
I wanted a better future for myself.
I remember thinking that I needed to start a business so that I could earn a living.
I went to an entrepreneur’s workshop, I met a friend and started working for him.
I became a consultant.
I was very happy in my work.
I thought that if I had started a business in a village like this, people would have liked me.
But then things changed.
I became very involved in the business.
My friends were very disappointed with me.
They thought that I did nothing.
They said, “Why should I have been involved in this business?
It is not your business”.
The first time I met my wife, she was very upset.
She said, “[Your parents] are too old to make a living in the village.
You are only working for yourself.”
She told me that the people of my village were poor.
I said, [You are] a good person.
You should give back what you have earned.
I gave her the money I had saved from my work and I told her that I would start a small business.
I started working on a small farm, selling vegetables and fruit and selling my own vegetables and fruits.
I made a living from this business.
It was a very profitable business.
But when I left for the US, things started to change.
The economy was going downhill and I started to notice that the quality of life for my family members was not improving.
I noticed that the salaries of my colleagues