In the whole field of play, we constantly look up to some form of guidance to spin stories that introduce us to their realm.
Our garden, started 60 years ago by my grandparents, was to Paa and I, a territory of story-telling, playing music, and of sharing the funniest of experiences. This was a tradition heavily engrained into my routine and after Ajji’s sad passing when I was 5 years old, he took over gardening duties. Paa soon re-designed the place and potted another singapore cherry tree next to the entrance of the house and since it was younger and thinner in terms of size, I immediately categorized it as ‘chikka garden.’
This is how the game of ‘dhodd-garden, chikk-garden,’ came about, in which one ran across both plots of land, dropping as many pebbles and rocks if caught in the wrong one. With this sense of protection around rocks…
View original post 391 more words