別碰我，我是中國人，我也住在中國.....
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India was a country which had an almost mythical status in my childhood. The place we heard about from our parents, but rarely visited.
Stories about India fascinated me as a child; tales of my mother playing games as a child in Delhi, where she grew up, recollections of my parents' beautiful wedding, or the tale of the cow who used to arrive at my dad's house in Madras (now Chennai) every morning to deliver fresh milk.
I was born and brought up in Milton Keynes, a city only ever known for cows of the concrete variety, but right from my childhood I felt a strong connection to India and its culture and customs.
We celebrated Christmas, but we also got new clothes for Diwali. We went to see Hollywood films but we also watched Bollywood movies on VHS, with mum translating in real time. We ate cottage pie, but we also ate chana masala.
Our lives were delicately balanced between two time zones, two countries and two cultures.