Sometimes its a strange feeling. Short little memories come to you when you least expect them. I was thinking about childhood in the night and so many memories came across. Pappu was the son of the local Dhobi (washerman) and he was a climber of sort. There was not a single tree in the colony that he hadnt climbed. Pappu would often climb the biggest trees and he would come down with parrots in his hands. All the kids used to try to be in the good books of pappu as he would get them the parrots. Not that we ate the parrots. Ofcourse we released them. But it was a nice feeling to have a lovely green bird in hand. They are very light I tell you , they hardly have any weight.
I went to the same colony a couple of years back to find a big wide road in place of the big trees. The parrots and pappu are no where to be seen. And kids of the future may not be able to hold the parrots in their hands like we did. Rather good thing to do and great memories to have.