The Perceptionist.....

A new day has arrived in the horizon! As I take a stroll on the village roads - I am taken aback by an enigmatic surprise. Well, it turns out that I now have - new neighbours. As I recall the days strolling the village roads alone in the village - reminiscing the stillness, peacefulness and cacophany of birds that could be heard in the backyard, I feel a great sense of nostalgia. I had to trade-off some of the beautiful bounties of nature that were exclusive to this vaddo to pave the way for the new-comers. I feel partly happy whilst sad as I miss some of the unique parrots with long tail beaks that I would spot at day time on a huge tree. This tree, was not just any tree - it was a cotton tree. It stood in between my house and other houses in the vicinity and provided shelter to other creatures. During the summer months, pink coloured flowers would spring out from its branches and colour the village pathway with its beautiful petals. It was a trove of the neighbourhoods ...

It is another fine evening of a bright Sunday. As the wind blows with full gusto, the young boys and girls can be seen playing on the footpaths and streets that line the heart of the neighborhood. With loud voices heard from distances apart, it throws light on the days as a young boy, living in the confines of a vast and expansive neighborhood. As the boy raises his bat to hit his target, a loud stream of voices can be heard from far-off, driving eagerness and enthusiasm in the much-loved sport amongst the Indian populace- cricket! With a blissful passion filling the hearts of the young people in this age and time, a trove full of countless memories reinvigorates itself as I lay there spellbound. A reminder of the good old summer holidays playing with a few friends as the schools would close for that time of the year. As I would lay outside, waiting for one of my good old schoolmates to come join us for the game, a loud sound of the TV could be heard. The television set would be tuned ...