My father was a gypsy. Truly, he was.

Born into a traditional Kutchi family on Pedder Road, Naren Dossa was a man who never even finished his formal education. The world was his school. I suspect he was inspired by his grandparents who made voyages to China at a time when the Hindu taboo of  travelling overseas and breaking caste meant no one went abroad.

The Dossas were pure vegetarian, no eggs, no onions or garlic. China in the 1930s must have been quite a voyage for my ancestors. Not only did my great-grandfather Nanji V Dossa and his tiny wife Brijkuwar voyage to China, they brought home many treasures with them as proof. These were proudly displayed in glass cases in the large sitting room of Kiran Villa. There was carved figurines of stone, snarling fu whe dogs. There were large, smiling, pot-bellied buddhas, urns and vases.

In any case, wanderlust seems to run in the family. Papa only continued with tradition. Legend has it  he ran away at fifteen, selling bananas on a boat to Basra, and then made his way overland to Europe.  Where he swore he served beef burgers in a hamburger joint to an unknown Arnold Schwarznegger. There are very glamorous photos of him in old -fashioned tuxedos and a magnificent moustache. What an epic adventure! He returned many years later, very polished and suave with his luxuriant moustachios and phrases from many languages and charm like no one else I ever met.

Not surprisingly, his siblings are also in the travel business. Some of them live abroad and some of them travel abroad a LOT! I love that this conservative, merchant family has a gypsy soul. Perhaps we were nomads in the Rann of Kutch, wandering through the desert.