Personal Narrative: Moving To America

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Not in a million years would I have thought I would ever move from my neighborhood in India to another house, let alone another country. If you would have come up to me and said I was moving, I probably would've just laughed at you, blinded by my obliviousness. But sure enough, one day, and I did not see this coming, my mother told me we were moving to the USA. Just out of the blue, no warning, just bam! Luckily for me, I was near a sofa when I heard this news, so I fell down on the sofa, not the ground. Shock would be an understatement for how I was feeling at that moment. I looked around, at all the pictures, all the furniture including the sofa I was sitting on (which I was quite fond of), all my toys, everything I could lay my eyes on. I thought I was going to die of shock, if not sadness. I was going to leave my entire life, all my friends, all my relatives, everything I treasured behind for an uncertain future in America? Apparently I was, since one month later, I was staring at my face on my passport, just above my name, Abhinav Murky. I wrinkled my nose, as my picture was one of me when I was about two years old, and to be honest with you, I thought I looked fat. My family would disagree, but again, that was my opinion. I had already bid farewell to all my friends at my…show more content…
School was tough, not in the academical sense (I aced all my subjects without even trying because of education in India), but in the social sense. I had friends, and I didn’t get ostracized or anything like that, but society in India and society in the USA are two very different things. I had trouble switching from one to the other, and my vocab was quite different, with different names for a few things. For example, soccer here is called football in India, and along with a bunch of other things like that, I got confused pretty often. But time passed, and I got
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