About

I was born in England and I went to school here until I was seven. I remember the uniform, the wet playground, and my mum walking me to the gate. Then my family made a decision that changed everything about how I grew up. I went to board at a school in South India, in the middle of a forest, and I have been there ever since.

It is not a normal school. There are no phones and no tablets. If you want to know something you ask a person or you find a book. My teachers are not really teachers by trade. One of them used to be a lawyer. One was an engineer. They came to teach because they wanted to, and you can tell.

The day starts early. I learn Sanskrit, which is the subject I am best at, and I train in Kalaripayattu, which is a very old South Indian martial art. I sing Hindustani classical music and I dance Bharatanatyam. I also crochet, which I am told is an odd thing for a twelve year old to be into, and I do not care.

When I was eight I wrote a letter to the Prime Minister of India asking him to bring in laws to save our soil. A few weeks later I stood on a stage and sang The Soil Song with a musician called Machel Montano in front of a lot of people. I have planted trees for Project Green Hands. Soil is the first thing I ever cared about that was bigger than me.

I should say that maths and I did not get on. For a while I was the worst in my class at it, properly the worst, and I thought that was just who I was. It took me about three years to stop thinking that. I am not brilliant at maths now, but I am fine at it, and getting there taught me more than being good at it would have.

Twice a year I come back to England for seven weeks. Orpington, my grandparents, cold mornings, the Tube. I have spent five years belonging to two places at once and I have got quite good at it. Now I am coming home properly, and I want to finish school somewhere that will push me.