Sneha.

My dad gave me a challenge before he'd take me to my first national — win an open tournament, score 6 out of 6, then we'd talk. I did. I called him right after: "So are we going to nationals now?" He said: "Let's see." We went. I came second at U-7 nationals. After every win, we'd visit the beach.

I told my parents — "let me go, I won't cry." So they put me on a flight to Brazil. I had a 6/6 streak at the World Championship. Came 17th. The moment I saw my dad at Delhi airport, I burst into tears. Those days still bring back the warmest memories.

Me and my dad stayed in a boys' hostel. One room, one board, five or six players surrounding it at night. The chief arbiter took me on a boat ride because everyone liked me. We had fresh cow milk every morning from a man down the street. Then one breakfast, the waiter told us the black thing in our khichdi was cow's intestine. We both fell ill. I still managed to play. Got a prize.