Anant Chaturdashi is here. Across Maharashtra, the beats of the dhol-tasha grow louder with every passing moment. The streets are painted in vibrant red gulaal, saffron flags fly high above the crowd, and one unified chant echoes through the air: “Ganpati Bappa Morya, pudhchya varshi lavkar ya!” But this time, my farewell comes with a deeply personal prayer. Bappa, as you leave, please take my pain with you. Take my heartaches. And take away this heavy chapter of my life. Ten

Some days, she wonders if she’s a little bit of an imposter. Not in the cinematic, double-life kind of way — but in that quieter, more...