|Ashvin washing up in a pond.|
On the train ride there I told Ankit how at his age I loved getting up on the top berth and reading books all night long.
Hours later, as we boarded the local bus, there was the story of me rushing to the back seats of buses with my friends. Those seats threw you high up when the bus went over potholes. It was like a rollercoaster.
I think I held back my excitement and did not utter ‘when I was little’ till we reached our bed and breakfast and stood near a mango tree. The little raw mangoes bought back too many memories and another story of how we stole them. About how un-ladylike I was as I lifted up my skirt to carry as many as I could back home (I was five).
|Walking along some fields.|
Then sugarcane sticks showed up and another story followed as I demonstrated the steps - peel, gnaw, spit – to eating a fresh piece of sugarcane.
There were many more moments like that and when I finally got time to reflect I realized somewhere in all of this, I felt happy, I felt like a kid and then I felt really old.