By Anamika Chatterjee
At the age of 15, stability eluded me. I was in tenth grade, preparing for one of the early rites of passage (read: the board exams), when my hands began to tremble routinely. The minor tremors sent major shockwaves to my family. Anxious, my parents decided to take me to the doctor’s. Was it Parkinson’s? No, said a neurologist. Certainly not, assured another. A detailed interrogation ensued. Smoking? No. Consuming the beverage that kids your age mustn’t consume? Hell, no. Nursing a broken heart? If only. Finally, the doctors concluded that studies were taking their toll on me. Solution? Take it easy.
Continue reading How Louvre reached out to me one winter morning →