Date: March 1, 1980

Date: March 1, 1980

Dear Diary,

It's been a whole year since I was reborn into this new life. A lot has happened, but if you thought I'd keep giving detailed updates on every diaper change, potty adventure, or burp along the way… well, you've come to the wrong place. If you're really that curious, maybe consider taking a trip to Epstein's island—I heard they've got a real paradise set up for people with those interests. 🙃

Now, let's talk about the important stuff. It's my first birthday today! 🎉 But before diving into the celebration, I realize I owe you some basic introductions that I somehow forgot to write earlier (oops). So, here it goes:

Name: Yakub Ali Khan

(And thank God for no more roll number one nonsense. It's a curse always to be called first during attendance. Freedom at last!)

Dad: Adil Khan

Mom: Sana Kidwai

Grandparents: Both live with us, so it's a full house of five.

Where do I live? Lucknow, of course. India.

As for what my dad does—he's in business, but I haven't quite figured out the exact details yet. Something involving electronics manufacturing, if I had to guess. And judging by the visitors my grandfather entertains regularly, I've pieced together that the old man was a zamindar—a landowner, with wealth that's probably older than the British exit strategy. So, yeah, you could say this baby's rolling in cash. 🍼💸

The best part? My parents dote on me like I'm some prodigy (which, technically, I am, but they don't know that). My grandparents are equally indulgent, and frankly, this whole setup feels like a cheat code. Wealthy family, well-connected, and living in a city with a rich cultural heritage—everything's falling into place for a solid life launch.

Back to my birthday—remember how I mentioned earlier that we were rich? Yeah, scratch that. Let me rephrase: we're filthy rich. You may wonder why I'm saying this. Well, we celebrated my first freakin' birthday at the Carlton Hotel.

Now, this might not sound like a big deal in modern times, but let me tell you, in 1980, hosting a party at Carlton wasn't just for anyone. You had to be some big shot just to afford a cup of tea here, and my father went all out by throwing an entire party. That's next-level wealth flex. 💸

What was the party like? Well, I can't give you every little detail—babies don't come with built-in memory cards. But here's what I remember:

Old-time songs playing throughout the evening, A grand banquet fit for royalty, with tables groaning under fancy dishes, Meeting a bunch of kids and adults who kept pinching my cheeks like I was some cute collectable.

Honestly, it was exhausting. I have no idea when I conked out, but I do remember my dream vividly. In my sleep, I was rolling around in a mountain of cash and coins—the perfect metaphor for my life, don't you think? 💰✨

So yeah, life's good so far. One year down, and it already feels like I've hit the jackpot. Let's see how long I can ride this gravy train before the real fun begins.

Now let's see what this year brings. Maybe I'll invent something, maybe I'll build an empire… or maybe I'll just enjoy the ride for a while. After all, it's not every day you get a second chance at life—especially one this cushy.

Yours truly,

Yakub Ali Khan

The Baby Billionaire in Training